Return to the Viking Age (Redone)
by The.Gemini.Twins12
Summary: As a one year anniversary gift to all of our readers, I (Pollux) have re-edited Return to the Viking Age. Please read it and tell me what you think. :) "One wrong spell from Norway sets things in motion. The Vikings return for world domination but the world won't take it. Join us as the nations wage World War Three against the ever growing Viking Empire."
1. Greetings to the family

_Hello, everyone! My name is Pollux. Nearly one year ago, my sister (Castor) and I entered the fanficiton world with this exact story. We unleashed our terrorizing insanity into your safe little world and tipped it upside down. Some of you took it a little easier than others did. Readers like Dalasport, Meduslegend, Little Yellow Sunflower, and so many more. You became our family in this world and have stayed with us for nearly three hundred and sixty-five days now. Can you believe it? I sure can't._

_I've been battling with myself for these many months, and Castor (occasionally), on whether or not to re-edit _Return to the Viking Age._ Whenever I read it, I couldn't believe how terrible I was at editing (or how far I'd come). So I made up my decision. As a one year anniversary present to all our readers, I would re-edit _Return to the Viking Age_. I would love your feedback on it, so please review._

_All the original warning pertain to this story: we don't own Hetalia, we don't mean to offend anyone, there are OCs, and all that jazz._

_And now . . ._

**Castor**

_And Pollux_

_**Are proud to present**_

**Return**

_To_

_**The Viking Age**_

_(Re-edited)_


	2. A Spell Went Wrong

Disclaimer: _**We don't own Hetalia!**_

A/N: _Hey, everyone!_

_And here we are. The beginning of our very first story. :) This was solely done but Castor, what we call 'a selfie'. It's rather hard and usually short because we have a hard time working with ourselves in the scenes._

_Enjoy! Please review!_

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**What happened?**

Norway's library was a very large library. Books lined every one of the nearly seven foot tall shelves which seemed to continue on forever. The ceiling was domed and painted with constellations, the North Star a brilliant red. The nation himself was sitting at one of the few tables positioned near the entrance of the room, his eyes fixed on the tome that lay before him.

"Let's see," Norway murmured to himself. "It has to be here somewhere." Turning the pages, he scanned the words carefully and his heart thudded excitedly in his chest.

Norway straightened up and cleared his throat. He read the words to himself one last time before speaking a clear tone:

"The past is the past," Norway said, his voice ringing through the library. "The future will come. Now is the present. Allow there to be what once was." There was a sudden explosion and the room was filled with a billowing dark smoke.

One of the library's oak doors swung open on silent hinges and Iceland stumbled in, coughing. He froze when he spotted Norway lying on the floor with a stunned look on his face.

"Norge?" Iceland stifled another cough. "What happened?" His eyes roamed over the menacing smoke and the tipped over chair.

"A spell went wrong," Norway said as he sat up, rubbing his head. His younger brother shook his head in disbelief.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Norge?" he asked exasperatedly. "There's no such thing as magic."

"There is too," Norway snapped. "None of you seem to understand that." Iceland just sighed, knowing he would never talk sense into his brother.

"Let's just open the windows and let the room clear up." Iceland coughed again, as if to make a point.

"Fine," Norway said. "But one day you will all see magic does exist." Iceland gave him a strange look before helping him open the windows of the library. Small snowflakes speckled the dark night, falling in a fine dust on the frozen ground. As Iceland turned to leave the library, Norway stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Ice . . ." Norway's face was so serious it worried Iceland for a moment.

"Já, Norge?" Iceland asked nervously.

"I need you to say it," Norway said with a straight face. Iceland gave an inward sigh of relief but rolled his eyes all the same. He left for his bedroom with Norway following him, chanting under his breath.

"Big Brother . . . Big Brother . . . Big Brother . . ."

The dark smoke from the spell filtered slowly out of the library in a light fog, mingling with the clean smoke. Where the snow and fog met, there was a spattering of gold sparks. A northern wind caught the fog by the tail and spread it across the earth, unleashing a new menace.

**A spell went wrong.**

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A/N: _What did you think?_

_Well, what did I say? Rather short. I remember how much Castor hated this chapter. But we had to play it, or else there would be no understanding where the whole mess had started from._


	3. Chaos Ensues

Disclaimer: _**We don't own Hetalia!**_

A/N: _Hey, everyone!_

_Alright, one more chapter before I head off to work. I can't believe how long it took us to actually play this chapter (or me to edit it). We actually spent most of Christmas Eve last year planning this story: coming up with South, kidnapping ideas, and the like. *Sigh* We haven't been able to have a good talk like that in a while._

_Enjoy! Please review!_

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**What happens during a world meeting?**

The meeting room was already in chaos when the tall doors burst open and Prussia raced in. Romano stopped strangling his brother long enough to watch the Germanic nation leap onto the oval table with a grin of triumph. Every nation stared at Prussia in both shock and bemusement, silence hanging in the air, before Germany broke the silence.

"Gott verdammt, bruder!" Germany leapt onto the conference table and chased his brother as Prussia took off like a bullet, cackling. This was the last straw for the younger brother.

The gathered nations watched the brothers run around the room for a minute or two before boredom struck. With Germany preoccupied there was no one to make sure the meeting would continue. Several nations left the table while others, Greece specifically, laid their head down to take a nap.

"Ay caramba!" Spain laughed as he watched his longtime friend fleeing his young brother's wrath. Prussia took a sharp turn at a wall and Germany nearly collided with the wall, missing it by a hair's breadth.

"Quit paying attention to the stupid Potato Bastards!" Romano shouted furiously. Dropping his younger brother, who scurried away, he grabbed a tomato from the bowl of fruit he'd brother with him to the meeting and threw one at Spain. The tomato missed Spain, instead hitting Italy in the forehead. The younger of the two Italies blinked once or twice in surprise.

"What's wrong, Romano?" Italy asked his older brother innocently. The only answer he received was another tomato in the forehead. Juice splattered from the fruit, landing on Italy's nice suit. Italy blinked in surprise once more but didn't comment.

"Ah, Romano, you need to be happier," Spain said happily. "Fusososo!" Romano only flushed a deeper red.

"Shut up, you stupid Tomato Bastard!" Another toward was lobbed at Spain and this time it met its mark: Spain's forehead. Bits of tomato flew in every direction. England was one of the victims of the red juice, the substance landing on his sleeve. The British Isle was distracted from his older brothers' drunken rage.

"Hey, watch it, git," England snapped at Romano. "This suit was just cleaned." Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, England began to carefully clean the tomato juice off his shirt.

"Angleterre, you should not be so vain," France told England with a rather suggestive wink. England flushed brightly and threw the handkerchief at the other nation.

"Shut it, you bloody Frog!" England snapped waspishly. France only smirked and spoke a stream of French that made Seychelles' eyes widen and Monaco giggle. His flush growing every more, England threw himself into a long rant about the vulgarity and uselessness of French.

"You two geezers are so funny," America laughed, clutching his stomach. Canada shook his head in disbelief at his brother's antics.

"Shut it, git," England snapped at his former colony. He swung a punch at the taller nation but missed when America straightened up, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Oui, you should stay out of this," France agreed smoothly. "Or Angleterre might make you his colony again." He poked England in the side to further irritate the smaller nation.

America doubled over, laughing, once more as the two European nations resumed their fist fight from before the meeting had started. Canada watched his brother and motherlands with a knowing smile on his lips. His polar bear, Kumajirou, looked up at him from his position in the nation's arms.

"Who are you?" Kumajirou asked with a cock of his head.

Canada gave an inward sigh. "I'm Canada," he said softly. Kumajirou only blinked at his owner then returned to cleaning his left paw.

"What did the Muscle-Headed Donkey do this time?" Luxemburg asked hotly, scowling as he watched Germany tackled his older brother.

"Gah! Not awesome, West!" Prussia shouted. He struggled to escape from his younger brother's grasp while India watched the pair anxiously.

"Shut up, bruder," Germany snapped. "You're not even supposed to be here." He pinned Prussia to the floor easily with his weight. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to return Prussia to their hotel room and make sure he stayed there.

"Would you look at that," Luxemburg said with a smirk. "The Muscle-Headed Donkey is trying to control his un-awesome brother."

"Hey!" Prussia glared at the younger nation from his rather uncomfortable position on the floor.

"Lux, why must you be so rude?" Belgium asked her younger brother sadly. Luxemburg only scowled at her and crossed his arms.

"Because he's an idiot," he said. "All brawns and no brains."

Prussia successfully escaped his brother and ran off with a victorious cackle. Germany swore loudly and began the chase once more.

"That's not true, Lux," Belgium scolded her brother, stepping aside when Germany dashed past her. Luxemburg opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he caught Netherlands' glare.

In a separate corner China was lecturing his siblings who had chosen to attend the meeting.

"You must rejoin me," the ancient nation was saying. "Or you will end up like North Korea, aru."

Taiwan rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Shut it, bastard," she said. China scowled and began to scold her in Chinese, starting yet another argument.

Hong Kong sighed to himself, bored already. He was tired of these meetings, where China told him what to do and England sent him furious glares. Standing, Hong Kong wandered to the corner where the Nordics were sitting. Iceland didn't look up from his game of Tic-Tac-Toe when his friend stopped beside him. Sweden spared a glance for the Asian nation before muttering to a frowning Denmark and an apprehensive Norway.

China was too busy yelling at Taiwan to notice Hong Kong's disappearance. It was only when Turkey spoke that the ancient nation stopped shouting.

"Trust me, China," Turkey said from beside Cyprus and Egypt. "Yer never goin' ta be able ta control the kids." Greece sent him a sleepy glare.

"Shut up, you masked pervert," Greece said sleepily as a cat crawled into his lap. He stroked it lightly before falling asleep once more.

"They will listen to me eventually eventually," China snapped at Turkey. "One day they will learn the world is not a safe place, aru." Taiwan yanked on his ponytail rather harshly. "Aiyah!"

Hong Kong shook his head in disbelief and lowered himself into the chair beside Iceland.

"Nǐ hǎo, Iceland," Hong Kong said, tucking his hands into his long sleeves. He stared at the many attempts Iceland had done to beat Finland at Tic-Tac-Toe. The other Nordic nation had proved too skillful, though.

"Hæ," Iceland said with looking up from the piece of paper. Finland finished his _x_ and drew yet another line through the squares.

"I win!" Finland exclaimed for the twenty-fourth time that day.

"I quit," Iceland groaned, throwing his pen down. "This is boring." Finland pouted but crumpled up the paper and threw it over his shoulder. It hit Poland on the head. Hong Kong watched the friends with a bored expression.

"The meeting _is_ rather boring," Hong Kong commented monotonously. "And Teacher won't shut up."

"Norge and the others are acting weird," Iceland said, sparing a worried glance over his shoulder at the Scandinavians. "Norge hasn't tried to strangle Dan once." Already bored with the conversation, Finland wandered off to rescue Estonia from Russia's incurring wrath.

"I'm sure it's just a phase," Hong Kong said with a nonchalant shrug. "They'll get over it. Do you want to get some tea after the meeting? Russia told Macau and me about a teashop down the street."

"I'd love to get some," Iceland said. "I just need to let Norge know. He'll freak out if I disappear again."

"Teacher's the same way." Hong Kong nodded understandingly. "We'll wait for you in the lobby downstairs."

Cuba stormed past the mismatching friends on his way to the laughing America. His face was livid and his fists were clenched.

"Hey, America," Cuba shouted furiously at the larger nation. "What've you been saying about me: that I'm just a stupid communist nation you could easily fix?"

America stopped laughing and straightened up, rubbing his ribs. "Sure, dude," he said. "It's be easy. I fixed Russia, didn't I?"

"Why, you litte-!" Cuba slammed a fist into America's face, surprising the other nation. America had barely stumbled back when Cuba pounced on him.

"Gah!" America fell back onto the table with Cuba atop him, snapping the strong oak in two under his strength. Several nations shouted in surprise and Scotland swore when his bottle whisky shattered on the ground.

"You can't just go saying you'll fix me," Cuba snarled. "I'm doing just fine." He continued to punch every inch of America he could reach. Canada moved forward to try and stop his friend but Netherlands stopped him with a hand on the younger nation's arm.

America tried to shove Cuba off himself. "No . . . way . . . dude," he gasped. "Then why do your people keep coming to my place? Oof!" A well placed punch knocked the wind from his lungs.

Nearly every nation stopped their own arguments or conversations to watch the two fighting nations. England bit his lip nervously, wondering if he should help America or leave him to fend for himself. Denmark's attention was drawn away from his conversation with Norway. At the sight of America and Cuba his lips pulled back in a silent snarl.

"Shut up, you bratty capitalist!" Cuba shouted. America succeeded in shoving the island nation off himself. He stood, wiping a trail of blood from his chin. Cuba leapt back to his feet, ready to continue the fight.

"I just want to help you," America said, trying to ignore the growing pounding in his head. "And don't call me a brat.

"That's what you are!"

America felt his face growing rather heat and the blood was pounding in his ears. He lunged forward with a surprising speed.

"No, I'm not!" America howled as he tackled Cuba to the ground and returned the blows to the Hispanic nation. "Take it back!"

"America!" England shouted, bolting from his chair. "What has gotten into you?"

"Kid," Cuba snarled at America, ignoring England. "I have more than two hundred and sixty years on you."

"Shut up!" America howled. "Just shut up!" Cuba shoved America off himself and drove a fist toward the other's face. America caught it easily and twisted the arm behind Cuba's back. "All I want to do is help!" England leapt forward and seized America's free arm.

"America," he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "Stop, you'll break his arm."

"Shut up!" America shoved England back forcefully. The smaller nation tripped over the remnants of the broken table and fell hard on his butt. Cuba managed to free his arm from America's grip and whirled around, twisting a hand in America's collar and lifting him up.

"You're not helping anyone, America," Cuba spat, pulling an arm back to punch America square in the face. A hand snapped out at the last minute and seized the Hispanic nation's hand in a bone-breaking grip. Denmark towered over the two nations, a terrifying snarl on his usually laughing face.

"Let him go, Cuba," Denmark snarled. "Before I break of all of yer bones." England froze in the act of standing. Repressed memories were resurfacing and a shiver of fear ran down his spine.

"I . . . got . . . this," America choked, struggling in Cuba's grip. Denmark's face smoothed out when he turned to America.

"Be quiet, kid," Denmark said, almost soothingly, before turning back to Cuba. "I said, let him go," he snarled. He tightened his grip until Cuba released America. The Hispanic nation stalked off, holding his bruised wrist and swearing under his breath. Canada joined him and they conversed in low voices until Cuba threw his hands up and stomped away.

"Are ya okay, America?" Denmark asked, turning back to the younger nation. His terrifying glare at smoothed out into an uncharacteristically soft smile.

America stood, rubbing his sore cheek. "I'm fine," he said in a hurt voice. "I could've stopped him if you hadn't butted in." Canada wandered to his brother's side with a worried expression. He hadn't been pleased when his best friend had decided to beat up his brother.

"Give yerself a break, kid," Denmark said. "We've got some hot chocolate in our room. Do ya want some?" America hesitated, chewing his lip. His blood had cooled and a tired feeling was washing over him. He was now aware of everyone staring at him. Prussia and Germany were standing side-by-side, their chase forgotten.

"Sure, I guess," America said. Canada cocked his head in worry; America just patted him on the shoulder trying to smile and failing. "I'll be fine," he assured his younger brother.

"Come on," Denmark said, placing a hand on America's shoulder. "We're on the fourth floor."

"Okay, I'll see you later, Canada," America told his brother. "I'll watch your hockey game against Russia." Canada smiled at the hidden joke. America was terrified to watch hockey with his younger brother, but he was fine watching Canada _play_ the game.

"See you there, brother," Canada said. He watched Denmark lead America to the elevator where Sweden and Norway were waiting. He didn't notice Norway's eyes flick to Denmark or the slight nod of Denmark's head. Turning away from watching his brother, Canada went to rescue Lithuania and Poland from Russia's rather frightening smile.

America stepped into the elevator, rubbing his chin. Anyone could tell the younger nation was pouting. The reason? He was the hero. He didn't get save, he _did_ the saving.

"Are ya okay, America?" Denmark asked America. "It looks like Cuba hit ya pretty hard."

"I'm fine." America looked away from the taller nation. He was upset with Denmark for stepping in.

"Look, America," Denmark said. "Ya won't always win a fight. Sometimes ya have ta accept defeat."

"I won't accept defeat until I have no other choice," America said stubbornly as the elevator doors slid shut and Sweden pressed the button for the fourth floor.

"Ya need ta stop thinking like that, America. It's exactly what's going ta get ya hurt really bad."

"It's not like I haven't been hurt before. Canada burned Washington DC and Confederacy . . ." America trailed off unsurely.

"What about Confederacy?" Denmark asked curiously. "Wasn't it just a bunch of states causing trouble?" He shared a quick glance with Sweden who just shrugged. Neither of them knew much about America's Civil War. America hadn't allowed anyone to join it or help him.

"Um, yeah, right," America said with a nervous chuckle. "Just the states causing a lot of painful issues."

"Is there something yer not telling us, America?" Denmark asked skeptically.

"Huh? Oh, um no!" America shuffled nervously, tinkering with the objects in his jacket pockets. His fingers closed around his cellphone. He prayed to God she had only been joking.

"Is something wrong, America?" Norway asked, speaking for the first time since they'd all entered the elevator.

"Not, it's fine," America said quickly, pulling his hands out of his pockets. "I was just worried about, um, North Carolina. It's just a small problem; nothing I can't handle."

"I see," Norway said in a tone that said he didn't. He returned to staring at the elevator doors dully until they opened with a _ding_. Denmark led America to room 413 with Norway and Sweden trailing behind the youngest nation.

"Here we are," Denmark said, opening the door and ushering the group in. "Home sweet home." Three beds lined one wall with a television and a wardrobe on the opposite wall.

America didn't hear the door's lock click as he wandered to the wide window. The Nordics gathered in the kitchen, murmuring to each other. Denmark snapped in a hushed voice at Norway who huffed back at him. America scanned the bustling crowds below, licking his lips nervously. He was hoping against hope the text had just been a joke.

A flash of yellow caught America's eyes and the nation groaned to himself. A young girl wore an open trench coat to reveal a plaid shirt tied above her stomach, shorts, and calf-high leather boots. Her blonde hair had been braided into pigtails and hidden beneath a cowboy hat. She craned her neck, searching the Russian crowd with bright blue eyes. America had to smile at his sister's antics. No one in their right mind would wear shorts and an open coat in the middle of a Russian winter.

Sparing a glance at the Scandinavians, America found them still occupied with their conversation. He turned back to the window and waved, but the girl didn't notice. One idea failed, he closed his eyes and focused.

"_Up here, sis,"_ America thought as hard as he could. _"On the fourth floor."_ The girl's eyes trailed up the building and lit up with the joy of a child. America smiled and waved once more, receiving one worth of a queen in return. He made a shooing motion. _"You're not supposed to be here."_ The girl pouted but turned and left, waving goodbye over her shoulder. America waved once last time before he turned back to the room.

Something in the corner of America's eye glinted in the sunlight, catching his attention. Curious, America knelt down to examine the object. It was a long carrying case: heavy, latched, and stamped with the Scandinavian cross. America flipped the latches of the case and the lid swung open to reveal a three-foot sword with a Scandinavian cross etched into it. The young nation's mouth fell open in shock. How had the Nordics managed to smuggle a _sword_ past customs? Quickly shutting the lid, America flipped the latched once more then rose from the floor.

"Wh't are you doing?" a voice asked directly behind him. America spun around to see Sweden towering over him. The Nordic had a terrifying glare plastered on his face.

"Nothing!" America said quickly, kicking the case back under the bed. "How's the hot cocoa coming?"

"It's d'ne," Sweden grunted. America followed him to the kitchenette, cracking his fingers nervously. He accepted the mug of hot chocolate Norway offered him.

"Are ya sure yer alright, America?" Denmark asked and America just gave him a strained smile.

"I'm fine!" America said too quickly. "Just fine!" Denmark frowned skeptically at him. The younger nation's nose had stopped bleeding but a bruise was forming on America's left cheek.

"Cuba really did a number on ya," Denmark commented coolly. America laughed a bit too loudly before taking a sip of the scalding hot cocoa.

"I'm fine," America said, trying to soothe his burning tongue. "Really. Canada's done worse to me."

"What has Canada ever done to you?" Norway asked, a note of curiosity faint in his voice. He'd never thought the quiet nation capable to hurting someone.

"Well." America shifted nervously. "I sort of burned York down, so he burned Washington DC. England told him to do it." He took another gulp of hot chocolate, the liquid burning his throat on the way down.

"Damn England," Denmark muttered darkly under his breath. "I knew he was nothing but trouble." America perked up at that.

"Huh?" Did you say something?" America asked, and Denmark fixed him with a serious and dark expression.

"I knew England would be nothing but trouble," Denmark repeated. "We should have fought him harder." America frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it when he could find nothing to say.

"We didn't' fight him, for anything, Dan," Norway pointed out. "We only attacked him during the raids."

"What are you guys talking about?" America asked in confusion. A faint buzz was growing in his ears and he tried to shake it away, his head spinning at the movement. America took another sip of hot chocolate, hoping it would calm him down.

"We found ya first, America," Denmark said, and the younger nation froze. Surprise flashed across his face closely followed by confusion.

"What?" America asked with a frown. "No, England and France found me."

"No," Denmark corrected firmly. "We found ya first. We tried raising ya, but Native drove us out. She didn't want us on her land when she saw what was happening. She didn't last too long after ya were born."

America backed away from Denmark, the mug slipping from his shaking fingers. The ceramic shattered on the floor and skittered across the now soaked floor. Denmark, Norway, and Sweden followed America out of the kitchenette with slow steps.

"I don't know what you're talking about," America said in a shaky voice. "You're crazy!" He was now aware of the exhausting rolling over him in waves.

"No, we aren't, America," Norway said soothingly, stretching out a hand. "We found you first and tried to raise you."

"No. No way. I . . . I have to go." America moved for the door but Sweden stepped in his path.

"Rel'x, Am'rica," Sweden said softly. America stumbled back as a wave of dizziness washed over and he shook his head again.

"Sve's right, America," Norway said. "If you struggle, you're only going to hurt yourself."

"W-What are you talking about?" America demanded weakly, struggling to form the words in his mouth.

"Ya haven't noticed yet, America?" Denmark asked. "Aren't ya the least bit tired?"

America shook his head slowly. "What are you talking . . ." he trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Y-You drugged my hot cocoa!"

"There was no other way, America." Norway shook his head as if it made perfect sense. He was amazed the young nation was still standing. "You wouldn't have come with us on your own."

America's face paled in anger and his exhaustion seemed to fade away. Whirling around, he shoved Sweden out of the way and raced for the door, but Denmark was too quick. The taller nation tackled America's legs, causing the other to fall to the floor with a loud _crash_.

"Yer not getting away that easily!" Denmark said triumphantly.

"Dad! Papa! Canada! Help!" America shouted and he struggled violently against Denmark's strong grasp.

"Be quiet, America," Denmark snapped. He shifted his weight so that he was sitting on America's back and tried to pin him down, but America wouldn't have it. With a great shove, the taller nation was thrown off America's back. America seized the door handle, ready to rip the door off the hinges, when a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. Sweden dragged America to the floor, pinning him down by his shoulders.

"Here, I have more sedative for him," Norway said. There was a sharp prick in America's neck and the younger nation squirmed uncomfortably.

"W-Why?" America tried to shove Sweden off, but his body refused to obey him. Denmark's voice echoed somewhere over him as black spots filled his vision.

"Because, America, we're Vikings."

**Chaos ensues.**

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A/N: _What did you think?_

_Wow, this chapter is different from how it was before. I tried my hardest to fix up my mistakes. Hopefully I got them all. I remember many of our readers commenting that our scenes were so well done and almost life-like. That's because we've been playing games like this since we were young. We know how it rolls. See you next time! Time for work._

_MARCO?! (For old time's sake)_


	4. Details Not Important

Disclaimer: _**We don't own Hetalia!**_

A/N: _Hey, everyone!_

_Well, here it is, the second chapter. I was dreading re-editing this chapter just because it was boring. You know, it took me forever to convince Castor to play this chapter, and then I was disappointed by it. I wanted more kidnapping scenes. This was the exact reason Castor became the plot-liner: because I move too quickly. This story wouldn't have been a story if I'd had control of it._

_Enjoy! Please review!_

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**Who are you?**

The Nebo Vysokoye Aeroporta was busy with last minute stragglers and bustling businessmen. If there was ever a time the attendants were stressed out, it was now. Still, that did not deter Anya Volkov from doing her duty, and staying positive.

"Spasibo, _(Thank you,)_ for flying with Nebo Vysokoye Aeroporta, Mister . . ." Anya said with a pleasant smile as he handed the man before her the airplane passes. Norway accepted them without batting an eye.

"Bondevik," Norway said smoothly. "Takk. _(Thank you.)_" He slipped the airplane passes into the breast pocket of his winter jacket. "And I have some _precious_ cargo I need to transport to Denmark on the flight."

"Konechno, _(Of course,)_" Anya said, holding her smile under Norway's cold gaze. "Dima, will you show Mister Bondevik where to load his cargo onto the plane?" Anya asked a young man with a crooked nose.

"Da," the man said with a nod. "This way, Mister Bondevik, ser."

"Please come back anytime, Mister Bondevik," Anya said. Her smile vanished when Norway walked away with Dima and she shivered. Something about the emotionless man freaked her out and she never wanted to meet him again.

"What are you loading, may I ask?" Dima asked Norway as they arrived at the loading tunnel. They paused outside the entrance.

"It's rather private," Norway said as he pressed a one thousand rubles banknote into Dima's hand. Dima swallowed hard and licked his lips, sorely tempted, before he closed his fist around the banknote and nodded.

"Da, enjoy your flight," Dima said before turning and hurrying away from Norway.

Norway only had to wait a few minutes for Denmark and Sweden to appear carrying a rather large crate between them.

"Lukas Bondevik?" Denmark sniggered as he carefully backed up into the cargo holder of the plane. Sweden took care to step onto the plane without shaking the crate too much. It wouldn't do for their cargo to wake up in the middle of their flight. Awkward questions would be asked.

"Shut up, Dan," Norway said in a bored tone. "We don't need them knowing about us. And be careful with that."

"Ja, ja, I know," Denmark said, rolling his eyes. He and Sweden slowly lowered the crate the floor. Strong ratchet straps were pulled over the crate to keep it from tipping over or sliding around. Denmark's bones popped as he straightened up.

"Do ya really think this will work?" Denmark asked as he and Sweden exited the cargo hold. "I mean, won't he wake up?"

"I gave America another dose of sedatives before we loaded him up," Norway explained coolly. "You might not be able to remember the finer details, but I assure you I can easily remember them."

"Whatever ya say, Norge," Denmark said.

The three Vikings made their way to the plane's cabin. Denmark shut the door behind them and latched it shut before taking his seat beside Sweden. The taller nation was staring out the window, already bored with the two, nearly three, hour flight. Norway situated himself in the seat opposite Denmark and Sweden. There was a loud _clang _as the cargo hold door was secured.

"We're ready ta go whenever ya are," Denmark called to the cockpit.

"Yes, sir," the pilot said, tipping his hat to the Viking before turning back to the consoles. The co-pilot shifted restlessly in his seat.

Denmark settled back into his seat, his stomach doing flips. He still couldn't believe they had managed to rescue their youngest son. Albeit, America might not consider it rescuing at first, but he would understand soon enough.

"One nation down," Norway mused quietly, almost to himself. "The rest of the world to go."

.o.)O(.o.

The surveillance room would have been as black as the night had it not been for the wall of televisions. They were old devices, nearly thirty years now, which occasionally sputtered, dancing with white ants. The only way to fix the problem was to hit the television. Russia had to be reminded every time that no, a water pipe did not count as hitting the television. It only aided in buying new televisions.

Russia stood in the glow of the television, his violet eyes scanning each screen carefully. There was no one else in the room save for a single human. She was Russia's personal assistant, mainly due to the fact she never questioned his orders.

"Again," Russia demanded, not looking at his most trusted agent. Agent Orlov, a young woman in her early thirties with silver hair and lavender eyes, tapped a few keys on her computer and turned back to the television screens.

"Where are you, Little America?" Russia asked as he leaned forward to study the screen. His eyes flicked to a screen portraying the Russian hotel's lobby. "I see Norway, Denmark, and Sweden leave with a crate," Russia muttered to himself. "But not Little America." Agent Orlov sat patiently in her chair. She knew if Russia had any questions he would ask her.

Russia had been keeping careful tabs on all the nations visiting his country for the world meeting. It wasn't because he thought they might have brought bombs or other dangerous weapons into the meeting, but because he was paranoid. Thanks to one of his leaders, Stalin, Russia had become very paranoid to make sure every nation was safe and left his country when they intended to. Many of the agents of the Russian government were thankful Russia was not paranoid like Stalin had been: thinking everyone was out to kill him. That would have made matters difficult.

"Ser, is there anything you need?" Agent Orlov asked from her seat before the computer monitor. Her stomach twisted when Russia turned to look at her. The nation's expression was a conflicted mask of anger, fear, and worry. It was both terrifying and heart-breaking at the same time.

"Da," Russia said finally. "I want you to search for Little America after he left the Scandinavians' room. Did any security guards check the crate they left with?"

"Net, ser, they did not," Agent Orlov answered almost instantly. "We asked all of them." She saw Russia's eye twitch in annoyance, a dangerous sign.

"And why not?" the nation asked in a cold voice. His childish smile caused the toughest agent on his taskforce to shrink back in her chair.

"They did not think they needed to, ser," Agent Orlov managed to say, her voice cracking with fear. "Nations come and go with strange objects all the time. Like the time Mister America brought an object from his alien friend to the meeting."

The memory brought a warm smile to Russia's lips. America had once brought what looked like a replication of Saturn to a world meeting. It had turned out to be a portal to an alien world. The portal had opened and released an entire alien army onto Earth ready for invasion. It had taken seven weeks to get rid of the aliens.

"_Silly Little America,"_ Russia thought to himself, shaking his head. His face hardened and he tapped the water pipe in his hand thoughtfully. Agent Orlov's eyes followed the water pipe's path warily. She had seen the damage it could do when a terrorist had thought it a good idea to try and assassinate Russia's boss.

"Da," Russia finally said, shocking Agent Orlov out of her trance. "We do bring strange objects. But if Little America was to disappear while in my country then they would all bal-," he stopped talking as a new figure appeared on one of the television screens. "Who is that?" He pointed to the screen in question. It showed an image of the street just outside the hotel. "That little girl."

Agent Orlov leaned over cautiously to look at the girl on the screen. She looked rather familiar to the human agent.

"I do not know, ser," Agent Orlov finally said. "She does not look like one of the nations."

"Net, she looks a bit like Little America, don't you think?" Russia asked with a cock of his head. "Look into theat. But first, call my old friend. I want to know if he has seen anything strange from the satellites."

"Da, ser," the human said. "I will do that right away." Agent Orlov turned back to her computer monitor with a determined air about herself. She would not be intimidated by Russia's terrifying aura nor his menacing demeanor.

"Mister Russia," a new voice said, and Russia turned to the man standing in the doorway of the surveillance room. "Forgive me for interrupting."

"Da, what is it?" Russia asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously, and the agent gulped. His eyes flicked from the water pipe in Russia's hand back to his face and he straightened up.

"I believe you have a game with Mister Canada soon," the agent said, pointedly tapping his watch.

Russia fiddled with his scarf; his eyes flicked to the television screen before he answered. "Da," he finally said. "You will remain with Agent Orlov and help. Ask my friend if he has seen any strange activity with Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. And I want to know what was in the crate."

"Da, ser." The male agent stepped aside to allow Russia to pass then moved quickly to Agent Orlov's side and began working at once.

Russia tucked his water pipe into his jacket as he strode quickly down the hall. Agents scampered aside and out of his way when his long, purposeful strides carried him past them. No human in their right mind would get in Russia's way when he was in a foul mood.

"_Where are you, Little America?"_ Russia asked himself. _"I hope you are alright."_

.o.)O(.o.

America was groggy, barely aware of what was going on around him. He could himself curled uncomfortably into a ball and walls pressing all around him. His glasses and jacket had been removed and were nowhere to be seen, or felt.

The surrounding darkness was broken by a single crack of light that grew in size until America blinked up into the blinding light. He could just barely make out spiked hair and flashing eyes.

"What?" America croaked through a thick tongue. His body refused to work as he tried to maneuver himself out of the crate.

"He's awake, Norge," the man above him said. Another figure joined him, smaller with a curl off the side of his head.

"This should keep him asleep until we reach the house," the new figure said. Soft hands reached into the crate and gently pushed America back down. His right arm was taken in soft hands and a needle pierced his skin.

America couldn't stop himself as his head hit the floor and his eyes fluttered shut. He was barely aware of the hand stroking his hair or the lid being shut. He fell back into a fitful sleep.

.)O(.

The next time America came to, he found himself in a much more comfortable position. He had been laid out on something soft, perhaps a mattress, and some kind of blanket had been pulled over him. The comfortable bed did not help the fact that his head pounded and his muscles ached.

"Dad," America croaked through a dry throat. His tongue was still heavy but he found he could speak easier than before. "Papa."

"What's going on?" a stony voice asked. America groggily turned his head to find Sweden standing in the doorway of the room. The new light revealed a bedroom furnished with two identical beds and matching nightstands next to them.

"Wh-What did you do to me?" America asked as he tried to shift on the bed. He found he could make his limbs move, but just barely. They were still weak, feeling like jelly, from the sedative.

"N'rge g've you s'mething to r'lax you," Sweden said. America tensed when the taller nation moved to his side and gently eased America into a sitting position. The younger nation could just barely hold himself up thanks to the sedatives still moving through his system.

"You drugged me," America said, his eyes widening in realization. "You kidnapped me?" He frowned in confusion, wondering what the Scandinavians could have possibly wanted with him. None of this made any sense.

"It was for your own good, Am'rica," Sweden told America gently. The other nation only puffed out his cheeks like a child who had been told 'no'.

"My own good?" America repeated. His tongue was losing the thick feeling the more he talked. "How is kidnapping me 'for my own good'?" he demanded.

Sweden didn't answer as he left the room. America barely had a moment to wonder where the other nation was going when Sweden returned with a wooden chair in one hand and a bowl of steaming food in the other. America's stomach grumbled and the nation secretly wondered when the last he'd eaten was. His hunger didn't stop him from eyeing the food distrustfully. Who was to say his kidnappers wouldn't drug his food.

"What are you even doing?" America asked. "Why did you kidnap me?" Sweden ignored the questions as he sat down beside the bed.

"It's breakf'st time," the Nordic nation said. "I thought you would l'ke s'me food." He stirred the bowl of what looked like porridge sprinkled with brown sugar.

"When it's not poisoned," America said hotly. "Why did you kidnap me?" Again, Sweden ignored the question. America wanted to punch him.

"The food isn't pois'ned," Sweden said, holding out a spoonful of porridge for America. "Eat."

"Why did you kidnap me?" America asked firmly, determined to get an answer. He saw Sweden's eye twitch in aggravation and he swelled with pride. "I'm going to keep asking you until you answer me."

Sweden sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I t'll you, w'll you eat your breakf'st?" he asked. America looked at the bowl for a moment before nodding slowly. "You w're our son f'rst," Sweden explained carefully. "Engl'nd got l'cky and m'de claims for you b'fore we could. We j'st w'nt wh't is r'ghtfully ours."

America gaped at Sweden. "What are you smoking?" he asked in shock. Sweden graciously ignored the jibe and offered the spoonful of porridge out to America once more.

"You said you would eat," Sweden reminded the young nation. "Now eat your breakf'st."

"No!" America shouted. "You're crazy!" He tried to struggle but his body was still too weak from the drugs.

"He is not lying, America," Norway said from the doorway, having come to investigate the noise. He watched America with cool, calculating eyes. "L'Anse aux Meadows was one of our earlier settlements. Granted, we only made it into Canada, but we would have had all of you if our plan had succeeded."

America could do nothing more than mouth wordlessly at the two nations before him. He reminded Norway of a fish gasping for air.

"You're crazy," America finally managed to say. "Crazier than South in Texas in the middle of the night!"

"Who?" Sweden and Norway asked together, and America felt his stomach drop.

"What are you talking about, America?" Norway asked, wondering for a moment if the drugs had possibly addled America's brains.

"Nothing!" America said quickly. He licked his lips nervously and drummed his fingers on the bed.

"Who is South?" Norway pressed. "And what do you mean by that?"

"N-No one," America stuttered as he tried to think of an excuse. "She's no one." His stomach twisted at his own words. He was only digging himself a deeper grave.

"_She_?" Norway repeated with a quirked eyebrow. Now he was getting curious about all these 'Souths' and 'shes'.

"There is no she because there is no south," America said desperately, trying to grasp at something that would save him from this mess.

"Calm down, America," Norway said in a soothing tone. Moving forward, he placed a gentle hand on America's shoulder. The younger nation flinched at the touch. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," America said quickly. "What are you talking about?" He tried to flash Norway a smile but all he could manage was a slightly insane grin.

"I think the drugs have affected his mind," Norway told Sweden with a shake of his head.

"I'm not crazy," America said defiantly. "You're the ones who think you're Vikings and that I'm your kid." Norway's words echoed through his mind and his eyes widened. "Hang on. You said Canada was your settlement. You're going to go after him, aren't you?"

"He's our son, America," Norway said. "Just like you."

"No, I won't let you!" America struggled on the bed and only managed to tip sideways. Sweden was quick to catch the smaller nation before he could hit the floor and returned America to his bed. Norway watched the pair with a rather bored expression.

"Leave. Canada. Alone,' America gasped as he was situated back onto the bed.

Norway sighed and opened the nightstand, grabbed a vial and a syringe from the drawer. He should have known America would cause so much trouble. Filling the syringe and making sure to release any air from it, he pricked the struggling America in the neck. America stiffened and, finding no other means of unleashing his frustration, screamed until his lungs were empty, flopping back on the bed when he was done.

"Leave . . . Canada . . . alone," America panted, trying to catch his breath. He could feel the drugs pumping through his system, exhaustion rolling over him in waves once more. "South . . . help."

Norway tossed the syringe into the wastebasket beside the nightstand and turned to leave the bedroom.

"I'm going to get an IV to feed America," he told Sweden. "He at least needs nutrients." Sweden nodded and waited until his brother had left to turn back to America.

"It's okay, America," Sweden said soothing. "P'ppa's h're." America whimpered, his head falling to the side as he lost control of his muscles.

"Canada," the young nation whispered helplessly. "South."

Am'rica," Sweden said cautiously, an idea coming to him. "Who is South?" America's eyes flicked to him and he shook his head.

"South is south," he told Sweden with a faint smile, as if remembering something happy.

Sweden sighed. "Go to sleep, Am'rica." Standing, he pushed the chair to the wall and left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

"_South, help," _America thought as his eyes slipped closed and he fell into a drugged sleep once more.

.o.)O(.o.

Canada wandered up the path with Kumajirou in his arms to America's house. His brother had fifty-one houses, and guessing where he would be was nearly impossible. Thankfully, the military kept tabs on their nation's personification and had told Canada his brother would probably be in West Virginia.

America's house was built like an old plantation home: tall with two stories and a veranda running nearly all the way around the house. The house had been painted a cool cream color and decorated with blue shutters.

A sudden sight caused Canada to frown in confusion. There was a young woman in America's yard, possibly in her late teens. She was picking up everyday objects, inspecting them, and then tossing them far away from their original positions. She was singing the entire time she did this.

"_I wish I was in the land of cotton,_

_Old times they are not forgotten;_

_Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land._

_In Dixie Land where I was born,_

_Earn on one frost mornin',_

_Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land."_

The suddenly spun in a circle with her arms spread, giggling slightly. Kumajirou cocked his head as he watched the girl with curiosity. Canada shook his head to break himself from the daze and set Kumajirou on the ground. The polar bear waddled quickly after his owner before Canada could shut the garden gate behind himself.

"Who are you?" Kumajirou piped up before Canada could speak. The girl suddenly stopped spinning to look at the pair.

"Um, I don't know," she said in a southern drawl. "Who do y'all think you are anyway?"

"I'm Canada," Canada told the girl nervously. "And this is Kumatachi, but I just call him Kuma. Who are _you_?" At the question, the girl suddenly became nervous, shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with her hair.

"Um, details not important," she said in her sweet southern accent.

"Are you a friend of America's?" Canada pressed. He knew is brother enjoyed befriending the local humans in the neighborhood, but this girl looked out of place. She wore jean shorts, calf-high leather boots, and a plaid shirt with the ends tied above her navel.

"Who?" the girl asked with a confused expression.

"Um, Alfred F. Jones," Canada tried, wondering if the girl didn't know what his brother actually was. The girl was chewing her lip, visibly panicking now.

"Um, I don't know any Alfred F. Jones," she said.

Kumajirou sniffed the air. "You smell like him," the polar bear commented, but Canada ignored him.

"Um, have you seen this man around?" Canada asked, digging his wallet out of his pocket and opening it to show the girl a picture. "Alfred is the man on the left." The picture had been taken at America's last birthday party with England captured in Canada and America's hug. The girl inspected the picture carefully before brightening.

"Oh!" she said excitedly. "You mean North. Yeah, I saw him. How do you know him?" The word 'North' caused Canada to frown. He had never heard America called 'North' before.

"I'm his younger brother," Canada told the girl, choosing to continue with his investigation. "Matthew."

"You're his brother?" the girl repeated with a cock of her head before she suddenly stamped her foot. "You ain't his brother!" she practically shouted, and Canada jumped in surprise.

"What do you mean?" Canada demanded. "Of course I'm his brother. We're practically twins."

"No!" the girl was screeching now. "You ain't his brother! You ain't! You ain't! You AIN'T!"

A black head suddenly popped out from a couple of bushes and beady eyes blinked blearily, as if just having woken up from a nap. A small black bear waddled out of the bushes and the girl froze when she spotted it.

"Oh." The mysterious girl calmed down almost instantly. "Who are you?" she asked the black bear.

"Smokey," the bear said with an expression that said it got asked the question a lot.

Kumajirou approached the talking black bear called Smokey and sniffed him experimentally. He sat back on his haunches and looked the black bear over.

"You smell like America," Kumajirou told Smokey who shot him a rather cold glare.

"You smell like stupid," Smokey countered and Kumajirou growled, dropping into a threatening stance. Well, as threatening a polar bear cub could be.

"Stupid is as stupid does, dummy," Kumajirou retorted.

"Kuma!" Canada shouted, shocked at his pet's behavior.

Smoked snarled angrily at Kumajirou. "I'll tear you apart!" he growled, imitating Kumajirou's stance.

"Get him, Smokey!" the girl cheered her little bear on. "Get that yaller dog!"

"Not if I do it first," Kumajirou snarled.

"No, Kuma!" Canada ordered before turning back to the girl. "Don't encourage them," he snapped at her. The girl completely ignored him and watched the bears with a childish excitement.

"Get him! Get him!" She was jumping up and down enthusiastically.

Kumajirou charged forward and seized Smokey's back leg in his strong jaws. The black bear yelped in both surprise and pain.

"Kuma!" Canada grabbed Kumajirou around the middle but had to jerk his hands back when Smokey clamped his teeth in a vice-like grip on Kumajirou's back. The polar bear whined in pain but refused to release the black bear. Both bears stumbled in a strange dance, refusing to let go or admit defeat.

Canada rounded on the girl. "Who the maple are you," he demanded. "And why do you have such a violent bear?" The girl ignored him once more as she began to realize the bears' situations.

"Smokey!" the girl shouted, lunging forward to yank at the bear. She was crying hysterically. "Let him go, you no 'count varmint!" Kumajirou just snarled and snapped at the girl, releasing Smokey's leg from his strong grip.

"Kuma!" Canada managed to grab the polar bear when Smokey released Kumajirou from his jaws. "Answer my question," he snapped at the girl. "Who _are_ you?"

"Smokey, please don't die," the girl sobbed into the bear's fur, ignoring Canada for the third time now. "Don't leave me!"

"Where's Alfred?" Canada demanded. Kumajirou was trying to lick his bleeding injuries and was failing miserably.

"Not here," the polar bear said, giving up on his attempts. "He never left."

"North never left?" the girl asked, her attention being drawn to what the polar bear had said. "Where's my big brother?" she asked in a quiet voice that made Canada freeze.

"Your big brother?" he repeated slowly. "Wait a minute. Kuma, what do you mean he never left?" His polar bear gave him a look that labeled him as stupid.

"He went for hot chocolate but didn't go to your hockey game against Russia," Kumajirou said slowly. "Congratulations on winning, by the way."

"That's not important right now," Canada said in exasperation. Kumajirou just yawned at him. "You're impossible."

"He never left the hotel," Kumajirou commented, ignoring his owner's remark. "You and Russia were the last people to leave that place."

Smokey looked up from his position in the girl's arms. "Well," he said. "What are you going to do, bastard?"

"Shut up, you poor excuse for a bear," Kumajirou snarled right back.

"Kuma," Canada groaned. The last thing he needed was another fight on his hands.

"I am so going to put a trap on your nose," Smokey growled, wriggling around in the girl's arms.

"Stop it, Smokey," the girl said in what she must have thought was a stern voice. "You'll only get hurt."

"Yeah?" Kumajirou demanded. "Well I'm going to drop you down an oil well!" He was struggling just as hard as Smokey in Canada's arms.

"Kuma, knock it off," Canada ordered. "Or I'll let Netherlands babysit you again." This caused Kumajirou to freeze in his struggling.

"That stupid smoking guy didn't feed me all weekend," the polar bear commented.

"Exactly!" Canada snapped before turning back to the girl. "So . . . Alfred is missing?"

"Darn tootin' North is missin'," the girl said. "What do I do?" she asked Canada.

"I'm going to talk to Ivan," Canada told her. "If he took Alfred, he'll be sorry. Why don't you stay here while I go talk to Ivan?" The girl nodded solemnly and Canada left the yard quickly, shutting the gate behind himself.

"Oh, Matthew," the girl said. "Canada . . ." Canada froze at his proper name.

"Yeah?" he asked slowly, turning around.

"You can call me South," the girl said in her soothing southern drawl. Canada blinked but smiled softly and nodded.

"Alright, South," he said. "I'll see you later." He turned back around and continued his way back to the rental car, only hindered by Kumajirou trying to twist around in his arms.

"Oil well in Canada!" Kumajirou shouted at Smokey.

"Bear trap on your noggin to kill what's left!" the black bear retorted.

"I'll set a moose trap on you!"

"KUMA!"

**Details not important.**

* * *

A/N: _What did you think?_

_This actually turned out to be an interesting chapter to edit. I love the way it turned it. The way it was before, all over the place, annoyed me. And I hated America's obnoxious attitude. I wish he wasn't so annoying in the beginning. :P Well, I best get off to work. See you in the next chapter!_


	5. To Stay By Your Side

Disclaimer: _**We don't own Hetalia!**_

A/N: _Hey, everyone!_

_Whew, this chapter took forever! I hated re-editing it just because of how long it was. Gosh, everyone loved South when she first came out. She was just too darn cute for everyone to handle._

_Right, before I forget, Good day to our British and Australian readers, hola to our Philippine readers, bonjour to our Canadian readers (yes I know you don't all speak French), Nǐ hǎo to our Chinese readers, and a big welcome back to my family!_

_We have a family here in the Fanficiton world. It's small and broken, but it's good. Please meet our sisters Medusa, Dala, and Milana. Our daughters Little Yellow Sunflower, Naru, Back, Missy, Mantyke, and Caha. Our puppy Clio (who pops in from time to time). Our son Toni. And our cousins Cave and Jaina. Feel free to join our family. How do you do this? By getting to know us! Review and we will answer every one of them. I swear._

_Enjoy! Please review!_

* * *

**What are big brothers for?**

Once more, Russia had found himself locked away in the surveillance room. Nothing any agent said could convince him to leave the confines of the darkness. Not even sunflowers or the threats of calling Belarus. Not that the threats had been very serious. No one wanted to anger Russia, not if it meant risking their lives.

Russia had been diligently staring at the wall of television screens, hoping for some sign of where America had disappeared off to, when the surveillance room's door opened and Agent Orlov arrived with a phone in hand.

"Mister Russia," Agent Orlov said without a hint of fear. "Forgive me for interrupting."

"Da, what is it?" Russia asked impatiently. He wanted to spend as much time as he could searching for America. His continued existence as a nation might be on the line.

"Mister Canada is on the phone for you," Agent Orlov said quickly, and Russia perked up. Perhaps the younger nation could be of some help. "He says it is very important that he speaks with you immediately."

"Da, I will take the phone," Russia said, all but snatching the cellphone from Agent Orlov. The human blinked once in mild surprise before leaving the room to wait outside. Russia waited until she was gone to speak into the phone.

"Privet, Little Canada."

"Bonjour, Russia," Canada said. "How are you?" His soft voice warbled through the earpiece of the phone. Russia could only guess it had to do with the growing snowstorm just outside his door.

"I am good, spasibo, _(thank you,)_" Russia said as pleasantly as he could. "Why are you calling me so soon after leaving my country? It is not that I do not appreciate your call but I am rather busy, da?" Canada was quiet for several seconds and Russia feared he might have hung up; but then the younger nation spoke.

"Well," Canada said slowly, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. "A-America didn't come to our hockey game like he'd promised, and then Kuma told me America never left the hotel before I did, so I was wondering if you might have seen him somewhere in your land?"

"Net, I have not seen him," Russia said. "And I have not kidnapped him," he added quickly in an afterthought.

"I-I never said you did." Canada sounded surprised at Russia's slightly accusatory tone. "But, well, I'm actually on my way over to your house to look for America."

It took several seconds for the words to sink in. Canada was returning to Russia. To look for his older brother. Russia licked his lips nervously before the thought that perhaps this wasn't such a bad thing popped into his mind. Canada could help him in his search for America.

"Russia, are you still there?" Canada's warbling voice dragged Russia back to the present.

"Da," Russia said with a shake of his head. "Da, I will help you search for Little America. There will be someone to pick you up when you land at the airport."

"Merci beaucoup, _(Thanks a lot,) _Russia," Canada said in a relieved voice. He almost sounded close to tears.

"Ne za chto, _(It's my pleasure,)_" Russia said, trying to sound cheerful. "Proshchayte. _(Goodbye.)_"

"Adieu," Canada said, and hung up the phone.

Russia closed the cellphone with a quick snap and turned back to the doorway. Having heard Russia's parting words, Agent Orlov had inched her way back into the room.

"I want you to pick up Little Canada when his plane lands," Russia told the human. "Call me if there is a problem." He handed Agent Orlov the cellphone.

"Da, ser," Agent Orlov said, graciously accepting the phone before quickly leaving the room. Her first point of action would be to locate which airport Canada would be landing at.

Russia turned back to the television screens in higher spirits than he had been in. Things were looking up for him.

.o.)O(.o.

Canada was trapped in the airport. It wasn't that he disliked Copenhagen, or airports for that matter. He just hated it when his connecting flight to Russia was canceled at the last minute due to raging blizzards near Moscow. And to make matters worse, some visiting rock band had caused all the nearby hotels to be booked for the night. Canada had nowhere to go and no desire to remain the airport overnight. This only left one option for the North American nation.

"Hallo?" Denmark's voice rang clear through the cellphone, not crackling as Russia's had done. This confirmed Canada's suspicions about the blizzard causing the bad reception.

"Bonjour, Denmark," Canada said. "It's Canada."

"Oh, hej, Canada," Denmark said happily. "What can I do fer ya?"

"Well, I'm kind of stuck at an airport in Copenhagen because of the blizzard in Russia," Canada explained, licking his lips nervously. He hadn't exactly been on good terms with Denmark since the dispute over Hans Island. "And I have nowhere to go since some rock group has come to sing. I was wondering if, maybe, I could stay at your place until the blizzard stopped."

On the other end of the phone, Denmark turned to his brothers with a victorious grin. Sweden drummed his fingers almost anxiously while Norway looked nothing more than bored already with the situation.

"Ja, of course ya can come over," Denmark said jovially. Norway quirked an eyebrow in his only portrayal of excitement. "Why would I leave family out in the cold? I'll come pick ya up, just stay put." Denmark hung up the phone before Canada could say thank you and turned to Sweden and Norway. "This is too easy!"

Canada stared at his cellphone, wondering if he had heard correctly. He had never so much as considered Denmark a distant cousin. His gaze turned to the snow that had started falling outside and his thoughts trailed to the old ruins of L'Anse aux Meadows.

.o.)O(.o.

Snow flurries burst into the house in dancing spirals when the door to the house was opened and slammed shut. Denmark stamped his feet, rubbing his hands together. Canada, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine with the chilly weather. In fact, he looked more at home than anything else.

"Aren't ya cold, Canada?" Denmark asked as he shrugged out of his winter coat and threw it carelessly into the closet.

"I'm fine," Canada said with a smile. "I'm used to colder weather." He allowed Denmark to help him remove his winter jacket. The taller nation hung it in the closet between Sweden and Norway's coats.

"What were ya doing in the Copenhagen airport, anyway?" Denmark asked curiously. "Didn't ya say something about Russia?"

"Oui," Canada said. He pushed his suitcase against a wall, hoping the snow would melt off before he had to move it again. "I'm going to visit Russia."

"Why are ya going ta Russia's house? Isn't he dangerous?"

"Russia's not that bad," Canada said with a frown. "But, well, promise not to tell anyone?" he asked nervously.

"Ja, I won't tell anyone," Denmark assured the younger nation, leaning forward with interest.

"It's just . . ." Canada stared at the ceiling as he searched for the best way to tell Denmark. "America's gone missing," he said bluntly. "You can't tell anyone," he added quickly. "They would try to take advantage of his absence."

"America's gone missing, huh?" Denmark repeated, his eyes shining mischievously. "That's not good. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone who doesn't need ta know. I don't get it, though, why are ya going ta Russia's house?"

"Kuma told me America never left the hotel," Canada told Denmark. The taller nation straightened up from leaning over Canada and cocked his head.

"Well that's not good," he said. "So yer going ta Russia's house ta try and find America there?"

"Oui, I left Kuma at home, though," Canada said. "He didn't want to go back to Russia's so soon after leaving."

"I get why," Denmark said. "It's the worst country possible."

"Not really," Canada said with a shake of his head. Snowflakes tumbled out of his blond hair and landed on his nose. "I get along with Russia just fine."

"What are you doing," Norway said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Keeping our guest in the entrance like that?" He had his arms crossed and was scowling at a sheepish looking Denmark.

"Bonjour, Norway," Canada said, waving shyly. The only time he ever spoke to the other nation was during their meetings about the Arctic Circle.

"Hallo, Canada," Norway said. "I apologize for Den's rudeness." His eyes flashed to Denmark.

"Sorry about that, Canada," Denmark chuckled, ruffling his hair sheepishly.

"It's alright," Canada assured the Nordic nation. "I'm used to it." He followed Norway into the warm kitchen. "Thank you for letting me stay at your house."

"It's not a problem," Denmark said. "Norway wanted ta leave ya outside in the cold for the night." Canada's eyes widened in shock at the words and Norway glared daggers at Denmark.

"Shut up, bror," Norway snapped before turning to Canada. "I did not want to leave you out in the cold, Canada," he assured the younger nation.

"O-Okay," Canada chuckled weakly, not sure what to make out of the two nations.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Norway asked, offering a steaming mug to Canada.

"I'm fine," Canada said. "Thank you anyway."

"Hm, I really think you should have some," Norway said. "Den and Sve love hot chocolate. Personally, I only like it with a good book."

"I guess some hot chocolate would be nice," Canada said, accepting the mug of hot cocoa from Norway but he didn't take a sip. "How are you doing, Norway?"

"I'm fine," Norway said, busying himself with putting the hot cocoa ingredients away. "But my friends don't seem to be doing so well. Some of them have fallen sick. Of course, my troll is fine."

"Trust Norge ta carry on about nonexistent creatures," Denmark said with a roll of his eyes. Canada laughed weakly and set his mug of hot cocoa on the table.

"It's not that bad," he said. "America's scared of ghosts. But I think that's because England used to tell him ghost stories when America was his colony."'

"England told him ghost stories?" Denmark repeated, frowning in displeasure. "What kind of father does that? Just another reason why we should have kept ya."

Canada frowned at the words. "Kept. Us," he repeated. "What are you talking about?"

Denmark and Norway exchanged mysterious looks before Norway took a steadying breath.

"You and your brother were born earlier than people think," Norway explained gently. "From our first settlement in Canada. You are originally Scandinavian."

"Are you talking about L'Anse aux Meadows?" Canada asked Norway with a frown.

"Then ya do know about us," Denmark practically crowed. "That just makes it easier ta get ya back."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Canada demanded. "You're not making any sense. What does me knowing about you have to do with anything?" He was slowly backing away from Denmark and Norway.

"We're talking about you," Denmark said as he stepped forward, Norway close behind. "We just want ta spend some quality time with our sons." Sweden appeared behind Canada, boxing the shorter nation in.

"Sons?" Canada repeated, his eyes flicking between the three Nordic nations. "You've never considered me as a son before." Unease was settling in his stomach and a headache was growing in the front of his skull.

"Why do ya think I protected America?" Denmark asked, crossing his arms. "It's because ya two are my sons. I would have done the same thing if it had been ya."

The pieces clicked together in Canada's mind and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "_You_ kidnapped America, didn't you?" he demanded. The pounding in his head was steadily growing to the point Canada couldn't ignore it.

"So what if we did?" Denmark smirked at the North American nation. "He's our kid."

"No," Canada growled, angry tremors running down his spine and to his hands. "He's. Not!" He leapt at Denmark, his hands outstretched for the Nordic nation's throat. "What did you do to my brother?" Denmark knocked his hands aside and shoved the shorter nation back into the triangle of nations.

"What we needed ta," Denmark snapped. Canada snarled and lunged forward, swinging a fist at Denmark, but the other nation ducked and slammed a fist into Canada's cheek. The blow caused Canada to stumble backward. Canada's shoulders heaved with breaths and the shorter nation slowly looked up, revealing wild eyes Denmark had never seen on the nation before.

"You think that's going to stop me?" Canada asked. His voice sounded hollow and distant, like he wasn't all there.

Norway and Sweden tensed, glancing at Denmark who could only stare at Canada. None of them had seen this sort of behavior for centuries.

"America and I are a lot more dangerous than you think," Canada continued in the same hollow voice. "I may not be as strong as America, but I'm still stronger than you." He lunged forward with surprising speed, shocking Denmark out of his daze.

Sweden was the first to react. He seized Canada's shoulders from behind and dragged the shorter nation to the floor, pinning him there. Denmark leapt forward to sit on Canada's thighs and immobilize him. He grabbed Canada's flailing arms, pinning his wrists down on the floor in a painful grip.

"Ya might be strong," Denmark said. "But we're Vikings." He flashed a feral grin that could have cowed an angry bear.

"Get off me!" Canada struggled with surprising strength under Denmark and Sweden. The two nations had to increase pressure just to keep him on the floor. Norway hurried out of the room and returned moments later with a syringe in hand.

"We should have guessed he would be as strong as America," Norway said, kneeling beside Canada who only thrashed harder at the sight of the syringe. "Calm down, Canada." Norway placed a hand on Canada's neck and gently injected the struggling nation with the sedative. "This is just something to help you sleep."

Denmark shouted and Sweden grunted when Canada gave a surprising lurch. The younger nation struggled harder and harder until suddenly he fell limp on the floor, the sedative taking effect. His head rolled to the side and his eyes slipped closed.

"Sweet dreams, my little koloni," Norway whispered, smoothing Canada's hair out of his face. He carefully removed the shorter nation's glasses and slipped them into his pocket.

"Berserk blood," Denmark said breathlessly as he slowly stood. Sweden rocked back on his heels. "Should have known."

"Hm?" Norway asked distractedly.

"Berserker blood," Denmark repeated. "Ya remember when I used ta take those drugs before a fight? I think that's what happened ta him. He and America must both lose control sometimes."

Norway pursed his lips before speaking. "That must have been what happened between America and Cuba at the world meeting. I noticed America seemed rather agitated."

"Probably," Denmark said with a shrug."

"Well, we will just have to give them an extra dose of sedatives," Norway said. "Let's get him to his bedroom."

Sweden scooped the unconscious Canada into his arms and stood. The nation was lighter than he'd thought he'd be. He slowly made his way down the hall to the bedroom Canada would be sharing with his brother.

.o.)O(.o.

There was a mighty groan as the brakes were applied and the city bus steadily came to a complete stop. A hiss escaped the vehicle and the doors were opened to allow three passengers off at the bus stop: two women and one young man with a puffin perched on his shoulder.

"Why did Dan want us all at his house?" Iceland muttered to himself as he began to make his way down the city street. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder with souvenirs from Hong Kong who had insisted they toured his house.

"Maybe the drunk guy just wanted to hang out with all of ya," Mr. Puffin said from his perch on Iceland's shoulder. Despite its warm feather, the bird was hunkered down to keep out the cold.

"Shut up," Iceland snapped. He was too tired and cold to deal with an annoying bird at the time being.

"I'm just helping," Mr. Puffin huffed at Iceland. "See if I ever do that again."

"Not like you would," Iceland muttered. "And you call that helping? 'Maybe Dan just wants us around?' You're useless! Why do I even bother keeping you around?"

"Keep talking, tough guy," Mr. Puffin said, ruffling his feathers agitatedly. "And see what happens." Iceland ignored him and continued their long trek through the snow. He couldn't understand why Denmark had chosen to buy so far from a real town or why the bus couldn't just drop him off there.

Arriving at the house, Iceland stopped in his tracks. There were tire tracks leading away from and back to Denmark's house and the car was clearly still cooling down.

"Huh, I wonder where the drunk guy went," Mr. Puffin said before shivering in the cold.

"Who cares?" Iceland asked with a roll of his guys. "Let's just get inside where it's warm." He hurried up the driveway and to the front door.

.o.)O(.o.

Canada was aware of a pounding in his head as he woke groggily from his drugged sleep. His eyelids felt like bricks when they fluttered open. He found himself lying in a comfortable bed in an unfamiliar room. Beside him, in another bed, America was sound asleep.

"America?" Canada croaked, his throat dry from sleeping. His older brother's eyes snapped open almost immediately, disproving Canada's theory about him being asleep.

"Canada, you're awake," America said happily. "They brought you in hours ago."

"How long has it been?" Canada asked tiredly. He wanted to rub the sleep from his eyes but found he could not move his arms.

"Three or four hours," America admitted. "Did you really go berserk on them?"

"Yeah," Canada said shamefully. He hadn't lost his temper in months and had been hoping to avoid it at all costs.

"Awesome!" America cackled gleefully.

"You sound like Prussia," Canada commented, and the two brothers broke out into laughter. The air feeling lighter than it had when he'd woken up, Canada relaxed.

"Do you know what's going on?" Canada asked, and America immediately stopped chuckling to himself. The older nation licked his lips in a nervous matter.

"They think we're they're kids," America said, a hint of hysteria in voice. "I think I heard them talking about taking over the world when they were walking past. They're going to start World War Three and the world's going to end and it's going to be worse than the time those aliens tried to invade us!" He said this all very quickly and was gasping by the time he was done, leaving Canada a chance to speak.

_"Calm down, brother,"_ Canada said in Cherokee. America visibly relaxed at the familiar language. _"They are not going to start World War Three."_

_ "Yes, they are," _America whimpered, and Canada sighed to himself.

_"No, they won't,"_ he assured America. _"Even Denmark isn't that stupid."_

_"Are you sure?"_ America asked with a certain glitter in his eye, and the brothers broke down into giggles once more. It was only once they'd stopped Canada decided to distract his older brother.

_"America, do you know someone named 'South'?" _Canada asked, continuing to speak in Cherokee. It felt so much more comfortable than speaking French, even English.

America licked his lips nervously before answering. _"Details not important."_

"You do," Canada said excitedly, accidently slipping back into English. "Who is she?" he asked curiously, and America groaned in defeat.

"She's the Confederate States of America," America said. "My baby sister."

"The Confederate States of America?" Canada repeated in shock. "But how is she still alive? She lost your Civil War."

"Southern Pride still lives," America said with a shrug. "Why is Prussia still alive if he was dissolved," he pointed out. Canada didn't answer as he rolled the idea around in his head.

"Is she . . . bipolar?" Canada asked, unable to find a better word to describe the strange girl he'd met.

"Yeah, she is," America sighed. "It was an after-effect of the war." He seemed slightly reluctant to talk about his baby sister.

"What about the bear?" Canada asked, and for a brief moment he wondered what Kumajirou was up to. He hoped someone found the polar bear before he starved to death.

"So you met Smokey, huh?" America chuckled. "He's there to take care of her when I'm not around. South forgets about him all the time."

"Why doesn't she hate you?" Canada asked his older brother. "She's the Confederate States of America."

"It's a long story," America said, as though he wanted to avoid saying anything more to Canada.

"It's not like we're going anywhere," Canada pointed out, and America sighed in defeat.

.o.)O(.o.

_It had been the first battle of the Civil War and the first Confederate victory. But there had been a heavy cost with nearly two thousand dead on the Confederate's side and nearly one thousand more than that on the Union's side. The victory, though, did not stop the girl's tears from falling._

_She was young, appearing to be maybe three or four at youngest. Her yellow summer dress was stained red from her injuries and her blonde hair was matted. Behind the dirt and blood, though, the girl still had an adorable touch to her heart-shaped face._

_The sound of crunching boots echoed across the battlefield and the little girl gasped, freezing. She wondered, hoped even, for a brief moment if the Confederate soldiers had come back for her. That they had realized their mistake._

_But it wasn't the Confederate soldiers. They were from the Union's side: two men, one younger than the other. The younger man was blond with what were probably laughing blue eyes had they not been filled with pity._

"_Hello," the young man said, kneeling down beside the boy. "I'm the United States of America." He offered a hand out to the girl but she shrank back, terror twisting her in stomach. Whirling around, she tried to scramble away on crippled legs but the young man caught her in firm arms and dragged her back into his lap._

"_Hey, hey," America said soothingly. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name?"_

"_The Confederate States of America," the young girl whimpered. She could feel America's strong heart beating through his chest. It was a soothing sound, as though it was a solid rock holding her down._

"_The Confederate States of America," America repeated softly. He shifted so he could sit down on the stained ground, ignoring the man standing behind him. "Didn't you go to General Beauregard?"_

"_I tried," Confederacy sniffed. "He didn't even look at me." America muttered something Confederacy couldn't understand and a realization dawned on her. "Why are you helpin' me?" she asked America. "We're enemies; we're supposed to hate each other."_

_America smiled softly down at her before answering. "Details aren't that important," he said before standing with her in her arms. He turned to the older man behind him. "Can I keep her, Irvin?" he asked excitedly._

_General McDowell looked between the twins with a calculating gaze that made Confederacy shrink back. Finally, he sighed and shrugged._

"_She's your problem," he said. "But the Rebels come looking for her, she's going straight back. I don't want any more trouble than we already have."_

"_Thanks, Irvin," America said with a big grin. The human General shook his head in disbelief and turned away, leading the siblings off the desolate battlefield. America followed slowly, limping with every other step._

"_Big Brother?" Confederacy asked in barely a whisper. "North?"_

"_Yes, South?" America turned his warm gaze down onto his baby sister._

"_Are you hurt?" Confederacy asked, worry in her eyes._

"_Yeah," America said before wincing as he stumbled on a stone. "But I'll be alright. I need to take care of your injuries. That's what big brothers do: they take care of their baby sisters and protect them."_

"_You're goin' to take care of me?" Confederacy couldn't believe her ears. America could have easily tossed her aside and left her to die, but instead he was going to take care of her._

"_Well, yeah, for the rest of your life." America graced the Confederate States of America with a kiss on the forehead. "I will never leave you." Confederacy laid her head on America's strong shoulder, listening to his solid heartbeat._

"_I love you, Big Brother."_

"_I love you too, Sis."_

.o.)O(.o.

Silence hung in the air between Canada and America as the latter finished his story. America licked his lips nervously, waiting to hear what Canada had to say.

"You took her in?" Canada asked in disbelief, and America nodded.

"Sure," America said, as though it was nothing. "She was injured and defenseless. I couldn't just leave her alone." It sounded like he was talking about a stray puppy he'd found.

"What happened later?" Canada pressed. "Did she stay with you during the whole War?"

"No," America said sadly. "A few months in, South started to realize if the Rebels lost then she would die. So she returned to the Confederate States of America. We faced off against each other in every battle of the Civil War. It got so bad soldiers would have to pull us apart when the battle was over. On the first day of Gettysburg, she stabbed both my legs with her bayonet. The doctors were threatening to amputate my legs, so on the third day I marched across the field and kicked South in the shins just to prove I could."

Canada couldn't stop himself from laughing at the mental image of his brother kicking someone in the midst of a dangerous battle.

"What happened after the War?" he asked once he'd got his breath back. America shifted slightly on the bed, hindered by the drugs pumping through his system.

"Well . . ."

.o.)O(.o.

_The Confederates had won the battle but lost the War. The Battle of Palmito Ranch had decided the fate of the Confederate States of America on the banks of the Rio Grande. The Union had only lost four soldiers in the battle, the Confederacy losing none. Except for one._

_It was this one soldier America stopped at, a look of disgust on his face. The soldier was a woman, her hair having been chopped short to stay out of the way. Blood caked one side of her face from the bullet wound to the head. The Confederate States of America looked very different from how America had first found her._

"_It's over, Rebel," America said, the disgust evident in his voice. He hadn't called his sister 'South' since she had left him for the Confederate soldiers. "I win."_

_The Confederate States of America gave a gurgling laugh and America only looked more disgusted._

"_You know what's funny, Yankee?" she asked in a wheezing voice._

"_What?" America snapped, looking as though he wanted to leave his sister on the battlefield._

"_We always seem to meet when I win the battle," Confederacy said as she struggled to keep her eyes open. "Just proves I'm better than you."_

_America blinked and suddenly he wasn't looking at the dying soldier on the field. Instead, he saw the young girl he'd found injured on the field. His sister had never grown out of her baby-blue eyes or the heart-shaped face. Deep down, she was still the same old South._

_Falling to his knees, America pulled his younger sister into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. Confederacy closed her eyes, listening to the sturdy heartbeat, her solid rock in the wild sea of the War._

"_I'll never leave," Confederacy mumbled, almost to herself. "I'll be here forever."_

"_Sure you will, South," America said, holding his sister close. "And I'll be by your side. What are big brothers if not to help their baby sisters?"_

"_They're for teasin',"South answered. "And talkin' into doin' what you want."_

"_And baby sisters are there to annoy their older brothers until they lock them in the closet," America retorted but held South closer nonetheless._

"_You'll never get away from me, Big Brother."_

_America buried his face in South's shoulder. "And I'll never try to," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric. "I love you so much."_

"_I love you too, North. Hey, when am I goin' to die?" South asked. "I just want to know. Even though I won the battle, I still lost the War. Maybe I can enjoy my last few days."_

"_You're never going to die," America said firmly, as though to argue differently would be impossible. "Because those Rebels out there, and their children, and their children's children are still going to wish they had won the Civil War. The South's Pride will live on, and so will you."_

"_Why are you helpin' me?" South asked, looking to America with a rather serious face. She received a warm smile in response and only three words._

"_Details not important."_

"_Hm." South relaxed against her older brother and smiled peacefully._

"I wish I was in the land of cotton,

Old times they are forgotten;

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

In Dixie Land where I was born,

Early on one frosty mornin',

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Old Missus marry 'Will-de-weaber',

Willium was a gay deceaber;"

_The song faltered as South's consciousness slipped away. America couldn't help but smile down at his sister. Scooping her into his arms, he made his way off the battlefield. His strong voice echoed across the field as he sang._

"But when he put his arm around'er,

He smiled fierce as a forty-pound'er,

Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land."

_South sighed contentedly in her brother's strong arms, knowing nothing could touch her. Not as long as America lived._

.o.)O(.o.

Canada had never heard such a story in all his life before. Most siblings in Europe didn't get along well due to their violent history. Not even Romano was nice to Italy, and they were the same country.

"That's . . . amazing," Canada said. No other word could have described the story so well. It was truly amazing how quickly America was to forgive and forget.

"Yeah," America chuckled. "And you wouldn't believe the adventures we had afterward. South caused so much trouble."

.o.)O(.o.

_Thinking back now, America supposed this might not have been the ideal vacation spot: the Gettysburg field. The ghosts were still agitated about losing the War and the presence of their death on their field did not help one bit._

_America cowered behind a fallen log, his hands twisted in his hair. He hated ghosts more than anything else in the world. They haunted his dreams and reminded him of how much better he could have done._

"_They're not there," America muttered uselessly to himself. "They're not there. They're not-." A shot bounced off the log he was hiding behind and he whimpered, ducking even closer to the ground. A female voice rang clearly across the field with laughter and song._

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:

He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;

He hath loosed the fateful lighting of His terrible swift sword:

His truth is marching on."

"_Hey, North, when are you goin' to get your ass out here?" South called over her shoulder as she let loose yet another shot. "I can't do this all on my own, you know!"_

"_When all the ghosts are gone," America shouted back. Unlike her brother, South had no qualms about ghosts._

_South stopped dancing on the battlefield and whirled around to face the log hiding her brother. She planted her hands on her hips, looking fiercer than a lion._

"_Don't you dare start talkin' to me like that, boy," South said in her drawling accent. "Or I will whup you into the next week."_

_America considered the circumstances: face creepy ghosts who kind of sort of wanted to kill him or his sister who most certainly would?_

"_Alright," America said, cocking his shotgun. "Let's go yonder and whup some Gettysburg butt."_

"_Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" South whirled around and planted a foot in a ghost's face. Her brother jumped to her side. "Back off, boys, South has come to play!"_

.o.)O(.o.

America sighed fondly at the memory. That had not been one of his most favorite days: fighting Gettysburg ghosts all night long.

"South has her own brand of crazy," he said, more to himself than Canada.

"Eh?" Canada asked, confused as to what his brother was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"She's . . . unique."

.o.)O(.o.

"_You can't make me!" South struggled wildly as America tried to pull her out the front door. "I won't leave this house until I see that sun risin' in the east!"_

"_Come on, South," America snapped. "It was just a movie."_

"_I don't care," South shrieked. "I'd rather starve than die tonight. I don't care how innocent you seem, I ain't leavin'!"_

_Fed up with his sister, America let South fall to the floor. "Fine," he snapped. "I'll go to the store myself and you can stay in this old, creaky house. Alone!"_

_South froze at the words. "Eh?" she finally asked in surprise. "What? Why, you bowed up, big bread basketed, no 'count, ornery, out of kilter, piddlin' varmint! You darn tootin' ain't goin' to leave me here! Are you fixin' to get me killed?"_

"_Wow," America said, trying to stifle his laughter. "That was a lot of insults. What are they teaching you in your etiquette classes?"_

"_Not to go leavin' your sisters to be massacred by a man with a chainsaw in the middle of the night in Texas!" That caused America to crack up laughing._

"_Alright, alright," he wheezed. "Let's go already. I'm starving and we've got nothing to eat." South stood but refused to budge from her spot. "What now?" America groaned._

"_Give me your jacket." South held out a hand for her older brother's precious bomber jacket. She wiggled her fingers when America didn't automatically pass over the clothing article._

"_Why?" America asked as he resolutely shrugged out of his jacket and handed it over to his sister. South pulled the jacket on quickly and zipped it all the way to her throat._

"_He won't know I'm a girl," South said confidently, as though this made perfect sense. "He'll think I'm a girl."_

"_If you say so," America said, yet again trying to smother his laughter. "Let's go." He took his sister's hand, South clutching to his own like a lifeline as he looked around herself suspiciously._

.o.)O(.o.

"And where did she get the black bear?" Canada asked curiously, and America cracked up laughing.

"That's a good story!" America wheezed as he tried to catch his breath.

.o.)O(.o.

_ "North! North! North!" South's shouts echoed through the yard and her older brother had barely turned around when something collided hard with him. He grunted, stumbling back in surprise._

_ "What?" America asked, massaging his stomach with a hurt expression on his face._

_ "Look what followed me home," South said excitedly as she shoved a small black bear into America's face. America blinked in surprise at the bear who seemed to be considering him hotly._

_ "What the hell is with this useless piece of junk," the bear suddenly asked, shocking America into silence._

_ "Can I keep him?" South asked excitedly. America gaped at the bear, not noticing the bald eagle that landed on his shoulder. The bird was glaring at the black bear, as though wondering if it was edible._

_ "South," America said thickly. "The thing is . . . I don't even know what to say."_

_ "What's with the big chicken?" the bear asked with a cock of his head. The eagle screeched indignantly, spreading its wings._

_ "Easy, Freedom," America soothed the bird. He turned back to his sister. "South, I don't know if I want that around the house."_

_ "But I love him!" South wailed, hugging the bear tightly and in the process strangling it. Freedom cooed softly, chuckling almost._

_ "I don't know, South . . ." America rubbed the back of his head, wondering how to get his sister away from the bear._

_ "BUT I LOVE HIM!" South screeched. The black bear struggled wildly in her arms as it tried to breathe._

_ "SOUTH!" America shouted in surprise. "Put him down; you're strangling him." Reluctantly, South released the bear. He landed on the ground with a _thump_, heaving for air._

_ "I'm goin' to call him Smokey," South said excitedly. "After that bear cub you rescued from the forest fire!"_

_ "Fine," America groaned in defeat, and Freedom screeched in annoyance. "But you have to take care of him."_

_ "I will, North, don't worry." South suddenly froze, slowly looking down at the bear. "Who are you?" she asked, and America groaned, rubbing his face._

_ "You have _got_ to be kidding."_

.o.)O(.o.

"She forgot about the bear right away?" Canada asked in disbelief, not seeming to realize he often forgot about his own polar bear many times.

"Yep," America chuckled to himself. "She has poor memory for Smokey. That, and her bipolar attitude, come from the bullet wound to the head she got during the Civil War."

"That's terrible!" Canada said in shock. "But . . . who else knows about her?" he asked. America cocked his head, counting off the nations who could possibly have known.

"Belarus and Lithuania," he finally said. "They met her when they lived at my house. You met her . . . two days ago?" America estimated.

"Somewhere around there," Canada agreed.

"And then Germany and Prussia."

"Germany and Prussia know about South? But they've never talked about her before."

"That's because they don't really remember her. They just thought she was another soldier."

.o.)O(.o.

_The Belleau Wood would have been beautiful, if it had not been for the fact America and South were trying not to die. Germany and Prussia had cut the twins off from their platoon and had chased them into the heart of the forest._

_South fired another shot at Germany from behind their fallen log. The Germanic nation dove for cover behind a tree, successfully dodging the bullet, and landed beside his older brother._

"_Sit still, you no 'count yaller dog!" South shouted at Germany furiously._

"_Go back, Yankee!" Germany called back. "You and America are the only men in this area!"_

"_He called you a guy," America chuckled, and South cackled beside him._

"_He called me a gentleman," she laughed. "I ain't no gentleman!" Another shot was fired as Prussia stupidly stuck his head around the tree._

"_Verdammt!" Prussia shouted as he jerked his head back behind the tree._

_America cocked his own gun and fired at the German brothers, hoping to scare one of them out. He was running low on ammo._

"_Hey, North!" South shouted, firing another shot._

"_Yeah, South?" America asked as he took aim at Prussia's head and fired. The Germanic nation swore once more and shouted angrily in German at America._

"_Remember that one game at the county fair," South said. "The one where you try and shoot the groundhog?"_

"_Yeah, what about it?" America asked, cocking his gun. He kept his eyes trained on the Germans' tree._

"_Well, brother," South said, firing at Germany's head. "It seems like we're playin' it right now."_

"_Yeah, I guess we are," America laughed. He pulled the trigger of his gun but nothing happened. "Shit! South give me some ammo. I'm out." South dug in her pockets and shrugged at her brother._

"_My pockets are empty," she said. "All I got is what's in my gun."_

_America swore again. "Keep firing," he ordered. "I'll think of something to do." South turned to fire at the tree again but froze._

"_Where did our groundhogs go?" she asked. "They sure are wimpy."_

_America peeked over his log. "Hey, East and West, are you still there?" he called across the distance._

"_It's Prussia, America," Prussia shouted right back, wondering how much longer he could take of his former trainee._

"_Yep," America told his sister." They're still there. Just hiding."_

"_Come on, North," South said. "I want to have some fun. Get out here, you good for nothin', squabblin' can't fir a gun Germans!"_

"_South, that won't work. Call Prussia 'East' and 'un-awesome'."_

"_Hey, un-awesome East, where are you?" South called, and Prussia popped up from his hiding spot. The Albino nation shrugged his brother off when Germany tried to drag him back down._

"_Hey," Prussia shouted angrily. "I'm as awesome as they come. And it's _Prussia_."_

"_See, I told you," America said._

"_Empty headed pig!" South cackled and fired at Prussia's head._

"_Gah!" Prussia ducked behind the tree just in the nick of time from being a bull's-eye. There was a moment of silence before a slap resounded from behind the tree._

"_Dummkopf!" Germany had hit his brother._

_South fell over laughing. "That was good!" she said, wiping tears away. "Come out so I can do it again!"_

"_Nein!" Prussia shouted back furiously. "Fool me once shame on you."_

"_Bruder!" Germany yelled, and there was another sound of someone being slapped._

"_Fool you twice shame on you," South retorted. "But the shame really is on you. You're so un-awesome you fell for that trick. Idiot."_

_Prussia stood up once more. "I am not!"_

"_Dummkopf!" Germany shouted, tackling his older brother down just as South pulled the trigger. But nothing happened._

_When South tried pulling the trigger again, nothing happened. She was out of ammo. Jumping to her feet, she hurled the gun as hard as she could at Prussia's head when he stood. There was a resounding _thunk_ and a German curse._

"_I got him!" South rejoiced. "I got him! Did you see that, North?"_

"_Yeah, nice throw," America congratulated his sister. "But now we're all out of ammos and guns."_

"_Wait, what?" South asked in confusion. "Where'd my gun go?"_

_America gaped at his sister in disbelief. "Seriously?" he demanded. "You have to do this _now_?"_

"_Do what?" South demanded. "Where's my stupid gun?"_

"_You threw it and hit Prussia," America explained to his sister._

"_What? Why would I do something like that?" Without waiting for an answer, South shouted over the log. "Hey, Prussia!"_

"_Was?" Prussia demanded, peeking out from the safety of his tree._

"_Throw me back my gun," South demanded._

"_Nein!"_

"_South," America said. "He isn't _that_ stupid." But South ignored him._

"_Oh, come on, you wimp," South called over the log. "I need it. What do you think I'm goin' to do with it?"_

"_I think you'll throw it," Prussia answered in a shout._

"_Why would I do that?" South demanded. "I'm supposed to fire it."_

"_South," America groaned. "We're out of ammo."_

"_We don't have ammo?" South repeated in slight confusion. "Well that explains why I threw my gun."_

"_Yes, it does," America agreed. "We need to get out of here without those two catching us." He could hear Germany and Prussia conversing in rather loud whispers. The German was too quick for him to follow, though._

"_Fine, how are we goin' to get out?" South demanded._

_America peeked over the log. He could see the German brothers anywhere. Chewing his lip, he thought carefully._

"_Hand-to-hand combat," he finally said. "It's the only way."_

"_Hand-to-hand combat?" South repeated, looking at her brother like he was an idiot. "I can dance, but I can't fight like that."_

"_Yes, you can," America told her. "Just . . . do what feels right."_

"_Alright," South said, though she didn't sound as though she liked the idea of hand-to-hand combat._

"_Got you!_

_America shouted in surprise as a pair of strong hands grabbed him by the collar and dragged him painfully over the log. His sister was pulled after him. Prussia and Germany dropped the American twins on the ground, standing over them with looks of triumph._

_South suddenly screamed, surprising the German brothers, until her lungs were void of any air._

"_That felt about right," she said once she'd caught her breath once more._

"_South!" America shouted in exasperation as he leapt at Prussia, knocking the albino nation over. The two began to roll around on the ground in a wild wrestling match._

"_West!" Prussia yelled, and Germany sighed in aggravation. He ignored his brother in favor of reaching for South who had tried to run._

"_Stay away!" South shrieked as she was seized around the waist and dragged back._

"_Come here!" Germany growled, holding South close to him._

"_Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" South thrashed violently in Germany's arms as America and Prussia continued their wrestling to the left._

"_Hey, America," Prussia cackled. "What's with your girly soldier?" he asked as Germany struggled to hold South still._

"_Aiyee!" South shrieked, flailing in Germany's grip. "Why do you think I sound like a girl?" she demanded, and Germany suddenly blushed, dropping South unceremoniously to the ground. Prussia and America stopped their wrestling almost at once._

"_Wow, America," Prussia cackled. "You're fighting with a girl?"_

"_Why did you drop me?" South scowled up at Germany who flushed brightly. "Help me up!" The Germanic nation hesitantly took South's hand and helped her to her feet._

"_Y-You're a . . . _girl_?" Germany asked in disbelief as South dusted herself off. The female ex-nation glared at him._

"_You do not do that to a lady," she snapped at Germany._

"_Was?" Germany asked in shock. South took an advancing stepped forward and he stumbled back._

"_When you are with a lady," South lectured. "You escort her where she wants to go."_

"_South?" America asked cautiously, wondering where his sister could possibly go with this._

"_You open doors for her," South continued both her lecture and her advancing. "You pull out her chair, give her a kiss on the hand when you meet her and when you say goodbye. You always pay attention to her and if she wants to dance, then you dance with her."_

"_W-Was?" Germany stuttered. "I don't understand."_

"_Hey, America," Prussia said, nudging the nation beside him. "What's up with your girly soldier?" he asked._

"_Honestly, I have no idea," America admitted. "It's just how she is."_

"_You never, ever drop a lady," South said. Germany was stopped in escape by a tree at his back. South poked him hard in the chest. "Ever."_

"_Sorry," Germany practically squeaked, not sure what else to say._

"_Just for that . . ." South seized Germany's arm in a surprisingly strong grip and sank her teeth into his wrist._

"_Gott verdammt!" Germany swore as he grabbed South's hair and yanked as hard as he could. Put it was in vain, South's grip was too strong._

_America grinned at South's idea and jumped on Prussia, sinking his own teeth into Prussia' shoulder. The Germanic nation howled in both pain and surprise and fell back down the hill._

"_Sie sind Teufel Hunde! _(They're devil dogs!)_" Prussia screamed as America continued to bite him. "West!"_

_South relinquished her grip on Germany's right wrist and sank her teeth into his left arm._

"_Gah!" Germany struck South hard on the back. "What _are_ you?" he demanded._

"_Um, I think I'm a Teufel hunde," South said, drawing back. "Like the idiot said."_

"_Hey!" Prussia shouted furiously from the base of the hill. He yelped once more. "Quit biting me!"_

.o.)O(.o.

Canada couldn't stop the laughter bubbling from leaving his lips. He could hear America chuckling beside him.

"That _is_ an interesting encounter," Canada said, trying to get his breath back.

"I know, right?" America agreed. "Germany and Prussia never actually found out who was biting them."

"So that's who South is." America and Canada froze. They slowly looked to Norway who was standing in the doorway. "Interesting."

"How long have you been standing there?" America croaked.

"The entire time," Norway told him. "I was curious when I heard you two talking. The Confederate States of America is alive?" he asked.

"No, she's not," America snapped, struggling to sit up. "She hasn't been alive since the Civil War."

"I heard all your stories, America," Norway said. He approached the older of the two North American brothers and opened the nightstand beside him. America was helpless as Norway injected him with more sedatives.

America fell back onto the pillows with a groan. Anything more he was going to say was caught in his throat at the sight of Iceland peeking through the door with wide eyes. America's eyes flicked back to Norway and he licked his lips nervously.

"_Run,"_ America mouthed at Iceland as discreetly as he could. _"England!"_ Iceland nodded once and slipped past the door, quiet as a mouse.

"The stories don't mean anything," America told Norway, hoping to distract him from Iceland.

"You're lying," Norway said in an accusing tone. "I heard everything. Besides, there will be pictures that can prove whether she was real or not."

"You leave her alone," America demanded furiously. "She's just like Prussia: an ex-nation." Canada looked between Norway and America worriedly. He hadn't seen Iceland sneak past them, too busy watching his older brother.

"That doesn't matter," Norway said coolly. "She could still be a threat to us. She might have even damaged you."

"What are you talking about?" America asked with narrowed eyes.

"She is the personification of southern America, ja?" Norway asked, and America nodded slowly. "Who knows what English crap she has spewed out for you?"

"Idi k chertu! _(Go to Hell!)_" America suddenly yelled in Russia, surprising Norway and causing Canada to snort with laughter. "South's never done anything to me!"

"What did you say?" Norway hissed furiously.

"Bravo," Canada told America with a grin. America smirked rebelliously at Norway.

"You will not speak to your Far _(Father)_ in that manner," Norway snapped at America. "Either of you. You two are about to be punished."

"Who said you were our Patéras?" America asked, using a Greek word. Being the melting pot of the world had its advantages sometimes.

"You will not speak those languages in this house," Norway said in a dangerous voice. "I will be going to Far Dan if you do not stop."

"Fine, voir si je m'inquiète, _(see if I care,)_" America said, and Canada cackled at the French.

"You two!" Norway snapped before storming from the room.

Canada looked to his brother, tears in his eyes. "He's going to kill us," he pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," America said.

"Iceland, what are you doing?" Norway's voice echoed down the hallway and America's stomach dropped in fear.

"Iceland, run!" America shouted helplessly.

.o.)Moments Ago(.o.

Iceland hurried down the hall as quickly and quietly as he could. He was still trying to understand what he had seen: America and Canada laid out on beds while Norway stood over them.

Stopping beside the first open window he found, Iceland snatched Mr. Puffin from his shoulder.

"Look," he said to his pet bird. "I don't give a damn about what you're going to say, but I need you to get help."

"Why can't you?" Mr. Puffin asked angrily, puffing up his chest indignantly.

"Because Dan saw me walk in," Iceland snapped back. "If he saw me leave, he'd get suspicious. Besides, I need to help America and Canada. So just do as I say." Before the bird could argue anymore, Iceland threw Mr. Puffin out the window. The puffin flew away, cursing Iceland out with every flap of his wings.

"Iceland?" a voice said and Iceland whirled around to see his older brother standing before him. "What are you doing?"

**To stay by your side.**

* * *

A/N: _What did you think?_

_What did I say? A long chapter. Whew! At least I didn't have to work today. But it is almost twenty below out (that twenty-eight below for you non-Americans) here in Minnesota. Well, I'll see you in the next chapter._

_Adieu!_


	6. Conquer

Disclaimer: _**We don't own Hetalia!**_

A/N: _Hey, everyone!_

_You'll probably notice a lot of differences in this chapter than it had been before. I tried to fix up the mistakes I'd made. Like Vietnam's character. I'd originally portrayed her as a crying, fearful girl. I've changed her to be more headstrong. Don't worry. I'm still following the original plot-line, just fixing a few things along the way._

_Enjoy! Please review!_

* * *

**What do Vikings do?**

Nearly every agent who made their way down the eastern corridor had to stop and stare at Agent Orlov. The female agent had positioned herself directly outside a door, conveniently barring access to anyone else. The reason for this was made clear the moment any of the other agents heard the loud crashes and bangs escaping the room.

One agent in particular paused outside the door at the sound of tinkling glass. He gave Agent Orlov a look of both confusion and questioning.

"Mister Russia received some bad news," Agent Orlov told the other agent who nodded and left quickly, casting the door a wary look before continuing his task.

The agent was unceremoniously shoved aside by a taller and much broader man, much like Russia himself, with a head of thick blond hair. Agent Orlov straightened up at the sight of her supervisor and saluted him once he stopped before her.

"What is the meaning of this?" General Ivanov growled. "Why did you call me down to the surveillance room then bar the door?"

"Mister Russia received some bad news," Agent Orlov said, standing at attention. "He spent me to pick up Mister Canada from the airport, but Mister Canada never arrived." She winced slightly as she heard yet another television collide with a wall. "We will need new televisions."

General Ivanov licked his lips nervously. He secretly wished Russia would quit destroying a room full of technology every week. It was starting to put a dent in the budget. There was a terrible sound of screeching metal and another crash.

"Da," General Ivanov eventually said. "I will get you the new televisions."

"Spasibo, _(Thank you,)_" Agent Orlov said with a nod. There was yet another crash, this one sounding lighter than the televisions' had been, and she smiled sheepishly. "And a new computer," she added.

General Ivanov huffed in aggravation but nodded. "Very well," he said, trying to keep his temper in check. "New televisions and computer; I will get those for you." He turned and stormed away from the surveillance room.

Agent Orlov listened to her supervisor's angry mutterings about temperamental nations and expensive technology until he'd disappeared around the corner. There was a greater crash in the room behind her than she'd heard in the last half hour and she sighed to herself. This was going to be a long day.

.o.)O(.o.

He was the Pearl of the Orient; used to subtropical temperatures and monsoons, not blizzards and freeze-your-but-off temperatures. Hong Kong shivered as he stood outside the Copenhagen airport, backpack clutched in his hand. He was starting to regret not having worn a warmer coat; granted, he did leave in a hurry.

Iceland had accidently left his notes from the world meeting at Hong Kong's house. And so, like the good friend he was, Hong Kong had decided to take the flight out to Denmark, where Iceland had been headed, and get his notes to his friend. He knew he would have to listen to China's ranting later and even Macau asking why he didn't just use a fax machine, but Hong Kong thought it was worth it. If he got to see his best friend more than just once a year at world meetings, then forget Teacher and his annoying lectures.

"Where _is_ Denmark's house?" Hong Kong muttered to himself, now realizing the dilemma. He had never actually been to Iceland's, or Denmark's for that matter, house and had no clue as to where it was. Leaning forward, Hong Kong looked both ways down the street. This place was far too busy for a nation like Denmark to live in. He would probably prefer a quieter town, someplace where the noise wouldn't remind him of war.

Hong Kong was just about to pull out his cellphone and dial China's phone number when something collided hard with the back of his head. Yelping, Hong Kong's hand flew to his head and he whirled around. But there was no one there. His hair wasn't wet, so it couldn't have been a snowball. Hong Kong rubbed his head, wondering briefly what could have hit him, when a voice called up from the snow.

"Hey," a snarky and familiar voice called. "Down here."

Hong Kong looked down to find a puffin laying in the snow. A puffin wearing a red bowtie that looked vaguely familiar.

"Aren't you Iceland's puffin?" Hong Kong asked the bird, staring at it laying in the snow. The bird hopped up from the ground and flapped its way to Hong Kong's arm.

"Yeah," the puffin said. "What of it?" he demanded. He examined Hong Kong's face carefully before jumping in surprise and nearly falling over again. It was only Hong Kong's quick hand that kept Mr. Puffin from falling the snow once more.

"Hey, you're the tough guy's friend," Mr. Puffin said excitedly. "The funny one from that hot place."

"Yes," Hong Kong said slowly and unsurely. "My name is Hong Kong and I am from China," he told the bird. "Iceland was just visiting my house."

"Well it just so happens Icy gave me an important message to deliver," Mr. Puffin said, ruffling his feathers pompously.

"Who is it for?" Hong Kong asked, and Mr. Puffin just shrugged.

"How should I know?" the puffin asked in a tone that annoyed Hong Kong. "The idiot just dropped me out the window and told me to get lost."

"Iceland did that?" Hong Kong asked in disbelief. Despite all of Iceland's complaints about his annoying pet bird, Hong Kong knew his friend secretly liked his pet.

"Yeah, and he told me to shut up too."

Hong Kong chewed his lip before speaking again. "What was the message?" he asked.

"Something bad is happening," Mr. Puffin answered, and said no more. He just looked at Hong Kong like the nation was supposed to understand what it meant.

"What is happening?" Hong Kong pressed for an answer. His aggravation was growing by the minute with this bird.

"Sweden, Norway, and Denmark are acting really weird," the bird said, slowly beginning to expand on the message.

"Yes," Hong Kong said testily. "Iceland said that at the world meeting in Russia."

"Well," Mr. Puffin said before taking a deep breath. "THEY'VE KIDNAPPED AMERICA AND CANADA!" he screeched, drawing the attention of a few stragglers in the freezing weather, and Hong Kong dropped the bird in surprise. "Ouch!"

"_What_?" Hong Kong asked in shock, his stony expression melting away.

"What was that for?" Mr. Puffin demanded, but Hong Kong ignored him in favor of grabbing his cellphone. He pressed speed dial and held the phone up to his ear, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Nǐ hǎo, _(Hello,) _aru?" China said after a few rings.

"Nǐ hǎo, Teacher," Hong Kong said, knowing exactly what China was about to say. "It's Hong Kong."

"Hong Kong," China repeated, a note of anger in his voice. "Where are you? You disappeared, aru!"

"In Denmark," Hong Kong told his older brother.

"Aiyah!" Hong Kong winced as China shouted through the phone. "What are you doing in Denmark?" the ancient nation demanded. "That is fourteen hours away from here, aru!"

"Iceland left his notes at my house," Hong Kong explained to his teacher.

"Humph," China huffed. "That is no excuse to run off without telling me first. How is Iceland, aru?"

"I haven't seen him yet," Hong Kong said.

"Is that not why you are in Denmark, aru?" China demanded exasperatedly.

"Duì, but then I ran into his pet."

"Mr. Puffin!" the bird said angrily, and Hong Kong glared at him.

"His bird, aru?" China repeated.

"Duì, he gave me some bad news."

"Shénme, _(What,)_ aru?"

"Denmark, Norway and Sweden have kidnapped America and his brother," Hong Kong said bluntly. China was quiet for several seconds and Hong Kong thought his older brother had hung up for a moment.

"_Shénme_, aru?" China hissed.

"America and his brother have been kidnapped," Hong Kong repeated. "By the Nordics."

"You are certain, aru?" China asked skeptically.

"Duì." Hong Kong nodded, though his older brother could not see him. "I did notice Denmark, Norway, and Sweden acting very odd at the world meeting. And America _did_ go missing."

"This is bad," China muttered, more to himself than Hong Kong. "This is very bad. Hong Kong, I want you to get back here immediately; bring that weird bird with you. I will call Ahen and tell him what is happening, aru."

"Duì, Teacher," Hong Kong sighed, pressing the end button on the call.

"That guys even worse than the snarky guy," Mr. Puffin commented darkly. Hong Kong glared at him, his distaste growing for the bird with every minute.

"If you don't shut up, I will boil you alive," Hong Kong threatened. Mr. Puffin narrowed his eyes at him but said no more.

Turning back to the warmth of the airport, Hong Kong wondered how quickly he could get on a flight back to China. He wasn't looking forward to another fourteen hours on a plane; especially not with a bird like Mr. Puffin.

.o.)O(.o.

Iceland stood, frozen, beside the open window. Norway was watching him with a cold look that kept him in his place. Iceland swallowed hard, wondering how he could possibly escape this situation.

"Iceland," America's voice carried down the hall. "Run!"

The shout snapped Iceland out of his daze and sent him spinning on his heel. Before he could even take another step, he had collided with something rather solid that sent him tumbling to the floor. A hand snapped out and grabbed his arm in a slightly painful grip and pulled him back to his feet.

"Icy," Denmark said with a grin as he settled Iceland back onto his feet. "Where's the fire? Don't tell me Eyjafjallajökull erupted again?" His grin only widened when Iceland mouthed wordlessly like a gasping fish. "Well, are ya going ta say something?" There was a snap behind them as Norway shut and locked the window.

"I-I," Iceland stuttered, not sure as to what to say. He was saved from speaking by a cold hand landing on his shoulder.

"I think Icy just needs to relax for a bit," Norway said in a cold voice. His hand tightened on Iceland's shoulder. "I'm sure the plane ride was exhausting; not to mention touring Hong Kong for the past few days."

"Norge?" Iceland croaked, slightly confused. He had never seen his older brother act this way before.

"Why don't you just take a little nap?" Norway suggested, his tone rather cruel. A sudden shock like Iceland had never felt before ran through the island nation's body and he spasmed. He collapsed to the floor as his eyes rolled back, Denmark catching him before he could get hurt.

"How long is that going ta keep him out fer?" Denmark asked as he gathered Iceland into his arms. The smaller nation's head landed on his shoulder. His breathing was rather erratic and his eyes flicked to and fro under his eyelids like he was having a nightmare.

"A couple of days, maybe," Norway said with a shrug.

"What about America and Canada?" Denmark asked.

"They'll be fine for a few days," Norway said. He moved to open a door and stepped aside for Denmark. "I gave them a large enough dose of the potion to keep them paralyzed. If they do manage to escape, though, my troll should be able to stop them."

Denmark nodded and entered the room with Iceland in his arms. He laid the unconscious nation in the bed, making sure to pull the covers over Iceland. Petting Iceland's hair fondly, Denmark straightened up and left the room. Norway locked the door after him.

"Alright," Denmark said as they made their way down the hall. "Do ya know where that stupid bird was heading?"

"Ja, we're going to China," Norway said. He followed Denmark down the stairs to the first floor. "I need to speak with you about America and Canada."

"What about them?" Denmark asked. Sweden was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs.

"They insulted me in different languages," Norway told Denmark. "And they refuse to speak Norwegian, Danish, or Swedish."

Denmark frowned at that. "They'll speak their proper languages," he growled. "Or else. Come on, Sve, we're going ta China!"

.o.)O(.o.

Hong Kong's phone call had unnerved China to the point that the ancient nation was pacing, not something he usually did. He had his cellphone, a device he despised, pressed against his ear. The ringing finally stopped and he perked up.

"Hello?" England asked in a tired voice.

"Ahen, aru," China sighed in relief, thankful England hadn't checked his caller ID. The island nation liked to ignore China's calls.

"What do you want, China?" England asked distastefully. "And stop calling me 'Ahen'!"

"It is about America and . . ." China trailed off, unable to remember America's brother's name. "His brother, aru."

"What about them?" England asked in a relieved voice. "I've been calling that bloody git for the past two days. I thought he was just being rude."

"The Nordics have kidnaped them, aru," China told England quickly. He waited with bated for breath England's response.

"Come again?" England asked.

"The Nordics have kidnapped America and his brother, aru," China repeated slowly.

"Are you sure?" England asked skeptically. China heard him shift the phone around.

"Duì," China said firmly. "Hong Kong told me, aru.'

"You're trusting Hong Kong?" England asked.

"Duì, why should I not, aru?" China asked, tugging on a fraying string on his sleeve.

"Hong Kong doesn't exactly like you," England pointed out. "And he hates me. So who's to say he isn't playing a trick on you?"

"Ahen," China said, but he was cut off by the dial tone. "Ahen," he groaned. "You have to believe me, aru." He dropped the buzzing cellphone onto the table where it landed with a _thunk_, the screen cracking slightly.

China's wallowing in self-pity was interrupted by a furious knocking on the door. Checking his watch, he frowned.

"Hong Kong cannot be back yet," he said to himself. "It is a half hour drive from the airport, aru." Rising from his seat at the table, he moved to answer the front door.

"Hej, China!" Denmark greeted the ancient nation with a wide grin when China answered the door. "How are ya on this fine day?"

"Nǐ hǎo, Denmark," China greeted. "Norway." The other Nordic nation nodded in greeting. "I am fine, how are you, aru?"

"We're pretty good," Denmark said a bit too loudly, and Norway glared at him.

"Shut up, bror," Norway said coolly. "You're annoying me."

"W-Would you like to come in, aru?" China asked nervously, stepping aside. The two Nordics stepped over the threshold, Denmark looking around the small house in wonder.

"This place is nice," Denmark commented. "Really clean, too. Do ya live alone?" he asked, turning to China with an unfamiliar look in his eyes.

"Occasionally," China said. "Vietnam and Korea have their own houses. Macau, Taiwan, and Hong Kong stop by from time to time, aru."

"It must get boring without them around ta boss around," Denmark commented, and China bristled. The nation had no right to make sure comments in his house.

"Sometimes," China said stiffly. "But like I said, Hong Kong, Macau, and Taiwan visit me, aru."

"Too bad our colonies never want ta visit us," Denmark said forlornly.

"_You were violent to your colonies,"_ China thought to himself. _"Why would they want to stay with you?"_

"Is something wrong, China?" Denmark suddenly asked, and China jumped in surprise. "Ya look kind of sick." The words tumbled out of China's mouth before he could stop them.

"What have you done with America and his brother, aru?"

Denmark and Norway were silent, exchanging a look between each other. The tense awkwardness of the situation grew by the second until Norway broke it by speaking.

"They are resting," the Nordic nation said.

"And that's why we came at see ya," Denmark added, his grin returning full force.

"Why did you need to see me, aru?" China asked skeptically. His eyes darted to the wok sitting on the table.

"We can't always be there fer our boys," Denmark explained. "We need someone ta look after them."

"Your boys, aru?" China repeated.

"Ja." Denmark nodded. "We found them first."

"Bùshì, _(No,)_" China said stiffly. "Ahen found America and his brother first, aru."

"Ya sound like ya need a history lesson, China," Denmark said, suddenly falling serious.

"I have had enough lessons in my time, aru," China snapped. And with that he grabbed the wok from the table before either Denmark or Norway could react and swung it at Denmark's head. The taller nation grabbed the wok's other handle before it could hit him and he gave China a disturbingly feral grin.

"Hej, China," Denmark said, pulling China's closer to himself by use of the wok. China tugged on his weapon but the Nordic nation's grip was too strong. "Do ya know who I am?" he asked, and China froze.

"You are Denmark, aru," China said carefully, unsure of where Denmark was going with this.

"That's right," Denmark said. "And I'm a Viking." He kicked China hard in the stomach, both surprising the other nation and sending him flying into the wall.

"Aiyah!" China winced as he struggled to his feet. "You will regret that, aru."

"Will I know?" Denmark asked, tossing the wok aside with a loud clatter. Reaching into his long, black coat, he drew out a battle axe. China's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. "We'll just see about that."

China yelped and darted aside when Denmark leapt at him. There was the shattering of wood as the battle axe connected with the wall.

"I thought ya said I was going ta regret that," Denmark commented, yanking his axe free from the wall. Turning around, he was nearly caught off guard by China's foot flying at his face, but he caught China's ankle and threw the other nation aside. China rolled with the toss and flipped himself back to his feet with ease.

"Ya just got lucky," Denmark snarled, rolling his shoulders. "I'll be easy on ya, since this is yer first time."

"But I will not, aru," China snapped back, and Denmark had to suddenly duck, lest he be kicked in the head. China's left knee flew up and stuck Denmark in the face, causing the Nordic nation to stumble back several steps.

"Ya got me there," Denmark admitted, massaging his smarting chin. "But Karate isn't going ta save ya this time, old man."

"It is Kung Fu, aru," China snapped back. He yelped, ducking, when the head of Denmark's axe nearly struck him. He kicked Denmark in the stomach once with the heel of his foot before springing back several paces.

"Call it what ya want," Denmark grumbled. He hefted his axe onto his shoulder and flashed China a grin. "But yer forgetting something."

"And what is that, aru?" China asked, keeping his eyes on Denmark's axe and his hands ready to block.

"Me," a voice said, and a foot slammed into the back of China's head, sending the nation stumbled toward Denmark. China yelped as his hair was grabbed by Denmark and he was painfully thrown to the ground.

"I find it is easier to attack another person when they forget about you," Norway explained as China struggled to his feet. "Why do you think I am so quiet all the time?"

"You should spar with Japan someday," China commented, wincing. "You two are very similar, aru." He threw a kick at Norway who blocked it easily before flipping China over his shoulder. The ancient nation hit the floor in a groaning heap.

"I might actually get to fight him soon," Norway said in a bored tone. "It depends on how well things go."

"W-What are you talking about, aru?" China asked weakly. He pushed himself to his feet, staggering sideways slightly.

"We're Vikings, China," Norway said, as though it were obvious. "And what do Vikings do?" He slowly began to circle China like a lion ready to pounce.

"They pillaged villages and raped women, aru," China said, warily keeping his eyes on Norway. Denmark was watching the pair with childish glee.

"Besides that," Norway snapped, and China bit his lip uncertainly.

"I do not know much European history outside of the World Wars," China admitted. "What else would a Viking _want_ to do, aru?" he asked.

"Conquer," Denmark suddenly said from behind China, and he swung his axe at the ancient nation. China ducked quickly, slipping past the Nordic nation and hooking his foot around Denmark's ankle. Denmark hit the ground in a cursing heap.

Using China's moment of distraction, Norway unsheathed his sword and leapt at China. The Asian nation yelped and ducked under the sharp blade as it whistled over him. The sword connected with the kitchen table instead, cleaving it cleanly in half. China kicked Norway hard in the stomach, sending the Nordic nation to the floor beside his brother.

"Yer doing pretty well, China," Denmark admitted. "But there's always that one other thing ya need ta remember."

"What now, aru?" China groaned. His body ached from the fight already and he just knew he was going to have brilliant bruises in the morning.

"Who else was a Viking?" Denmark asked, and Norway smirked.

China froze. If ever before he'd had a sense of foreboding, it was now. Like something dark and sinister was standing directly behind him. Slowly turning, China found himself face to face with the stony-faced Sweden. Sweden grabbed China by the upper arms before the Asian nation could react and swung him effortlessly into the wall. China cried out, collapsing on the floor.

"Teacher!" a shout came from the door, and the Viking s turned to see Hong Kong standing there with Mr. Puffin on his shoulder.

Denmark and Norway stood from their positions on the floor and Sweden straightened up. China was helpless as he watched Denmark crack his knuckles.

"Well, well, well," Denmark said slowly and with a nasty grin. "Look what we've got here. We've been looking fer ya, brat." Hong Kong tensed and even stepped back a step, intimidated by Denmark's feral look.

"Hong Kong, run," China shouted weakly from the ground. "Get help, aru!"

Turning on his heel, Hong Kong made to run but was tackled to the floor by Denmark. Mr. Puffin was sent tumbling under the broken table. The young nation kicked and screamed underneath Denmark, trying in vain to escape him, but it was useless. Denmark grabbed Hong Kong's wrists and pinned them painfully above his head, sitting on Hong Kong's stomach.

"Hong Kong, aru!" China called as Hong Kong struggled. The young nation finally fell limp in Denmark's grip, glaring up at him.

"I'm sure someone would like ta see ya, Hong Kong," Denmark said as he shifted his weight, chuckling when Hong Kong jerked at his wrists.

"What did you do to Iceland?" Hong Kong demanded.

"Icy's taking a nap," Denmark said. "That's all." He turned his attention to Norway who stood over China with Sweden at his side. "Hej, Norge, did ya bring the rope?"

Norway frowned at Denmark. "I thought you said you were bringing it," he said. Both he and Denmark turned their eyes on Sweden who just shrugged.

"Your fault," Sweden grunted, as though the blame couldn't have possibly been pinned on him.

"You three are incompetent, aru," China muttered, flinching when Norway glared down at him.

"I would watch my mouth if I were you," Norway snapped. "Stay here," he ordered to Denmark and Sweden before disappearing down the hall. He returned minutes later with lengths of silk in his hands.

"Here," Norway said, handing silk to Sweden and tossing the rest to Denmark. "Use these."

"Let me go!" Hong Kong shouted as Denmark pulled his arms back and bound them with the silk. He thrashed uselessly until Denmark finished with his legs and swung the Asian nation over his shoulder. China had been succumbed to similar treatment and was hanging from Sweden's shoulder.

Mr. Puffin poked his head out from under the table, his eyes wide. Hong Kong spotted the bird and tried to get the bird's attention. When the puffin finally looked at Hong Kong, the Asian nation mouthed one word: Japan. Mr. Puffin nodded and huddled back under the table.

"Let's go," Denmark said, hefting Hong Kong higher onto his shoulder. "I want ta get home before the kiddies wake up." He followed Norway from the house with Sweden close behind.

Mr. Puffin had just relaxed when a furious shout caused him to leap up in surprise.

"I said I wasn't going ta ride another a dragon!"

.o.)O(.o.

The moment Japan entered his older brother's house, he knew something was wrong. The door had been left open, practically hanging off a hinge. The kitchen was trashed: the table smashed, China's wok abandoned on the floor, and dents in the walls.

"Aiyah," Taiwan said from behind Japan, having arrived just moments after him. "What happened here?"

"I am not sure," Japan told her. "This must have happened sometime between China-san calling us and our arrival."

"What are you talking about?" Vietnam asked as she, Macau, and Korea entered the house. Korea took one look at the destroyed room and disappeared into the house at a run, all the while shouting:

"Aniki! Aniki, where are you, da-ze?"

Taiwan and Macau had just begun to pick through the rubble when the table talked.

"Who's there?" the table shouted in a trembling voice. Taiwan yelped in surprise and leapt back while Macau stumbled away from the table in surprise. Only when Mr. Puffin poked his head out from under the table did they realize it wasn't the table that had talked.

"Who're you?" the bird asked again.

"It is the rest of Asia," Japan told the bird, and Mr. Puffin waddled out from under the table. "Are you not Iceland-kun's bird?"

"Yeah," the bird huffed. "I'm Icy's puffin."

"Aniki isn't here, da-ze," Korea whined as he raced back into the room. His cries were ignored by the other Asian nations.

"What are you doing here?" Japan asked Mr. Puffin, kneeling down beside the table.

"I don't know if I can talk about it," Mr. Puffin said shakily. "I think I might faint."

"What happened here?" Japan asked, a threatening tone in his voice. His hand ghosted over the handle of his katana. Mr. Puffin took one look at the Asian nation and nearly fell over.

"Japan!" Taiwan scolded the older nation. Swooping down, she scooped Mr. Puffin into her arms and cuddled him close to her chest. "You need to be nice to him. He's scared." Vietnam rolled her eyes and turned away from the scene.

"What happened here?" Taiwan asked Mr. Puffin gently.

"Well," Mr. Puffin said, trying to regain some composure. "I was coming here with that one guy who likes to hang out with Icy a lot. He's one of you."

Macau thought hard before thinking of his brother. "Hong Kong?" he asked. "We had tea with Iceland after the world meeting then Hong Kong took Iceland for a tour around his house."

"Yeah, anyway," Mr. Puffin said. "We got to the house to see Sweden slam-dunk China!" He shuddered at the thought.

"What happened next?" Taiwan asked fearfully.

"Well," Mr. Puffin said before shuddering. "China yelled at the weird guy to run, but Denmark got him before he could get away. That's how I got under the table, the weird guy threw me. The snarky guy and his friends tied China and the weird guy up and took them away."

"What?" Taiwan asked in shock, dropping Mr. Puffin on the floor. The bird squawked in both pain and anger. "China was kidnapped?"

"Great," Vietnam groaned, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "Just one more thing we have to add to the 'what China needs to stop doing' list."

"I'm going to get a concussion," Mr. Puffin grumbled to himself. His whining went ignored, though, as the Asian nations tried to think of what to do.

"Perhaps we should call America-kun," Japan suggested. "He is on good terms with Denmark-san and might be able to talk him into releasing China-san."

"Yeah," Mr. Puffin agreed hesitantly. "There's just one problem with that."

"And what is that?" Macau asked curiously.

Mr. Puffin was quiet for a moment before shouting at the tops of his lungs and making the Asian nations jump in the process.

"America's been kidnaped!"

"We're doomed, da-ze," Korea wailed, earning himself an annoyed glare from Vietnam.

"Don't you people usually just call world meetings when stuff like this happens?" Mr. Puffin asked Japan.

"Hai," Japan said. "We were in Russia for the last world meeting." There was a note of disdain in his voice. "Perhaps it would be easier to have everyone return there."

"Great, we're going back to Hell frozen over," Vietnam grumbled as Japan withdrew his cellphone from his pocket. The older nation dialed a phone number and held the phone to his ear.

"Privet," a cool woman's voice said. "This is Agent Orlov speaking for Mister Russia."

"Moshimoshi, this is Japan."

Taiwan picked Mr. Puffin up once more and held her close to her chest. Macau patted Korea comfortingly on the shoulder as the other nation's eyes welled with tears.

"Privet, Mister Japan," Agent Orlov said. "How may I help you today?"

"Is Russia-san aware of America's absence?" Japan asked the human. He side-stepped Taiwan when she tried to grab the phone.

"Da, and Mister Canada's," Agent Orlov told Japan. "He was aware of it when Mister America did not leave the hotel several days ago."

"Denmark-san and his brothers have just kidnapped China-san and Hong Kong-kun," Japan said stiffly.

"Chto?" Agent Orlov said, and Japan heard a familiar, and rather disliked, voice speaking on the other end. Agent Orlov didn't answer as she spoke to Japan. "I am sorry, Mister Japan, but Mister Russia would like to speak with you."

Japan's eyes narrowed. "Hai?" he asked. "Then put him on." He heard the shuffling of the phone being passed to another hand.

"Privet," Russia said, clearly trying to keep his voice steady. "What are you telling Agent Orlov?" he asked Japan. "She will not tell me what is happening."

"China-san and Hong Kong-kun have been kidnapped," Japan said through gritted teeth. "Denmark-san, Norway-san, and Sweden-san did it."

"Da?" Russia asked. "I believe it was those three who kidnapped America; and the last I heard from Canada, he was in Denmark. So I can only guess it was them who caused Canada's disappearance."

"They also have Iceland-kun," Japan added. He heard Russia speaking to someone, presumably his agent, off the phone before the large nation returned.

"I am going to call another world meeting," Russia said. "I would like you and your siblings to return immediately."

"Hai, Russia-san," Japan said, hanging up without saying goodbye.

"Well?" Taiwan asked nervously, practically strangling Mr. Puffin in her anxiety.

"We are returning to Russia-san's house," Japan said, wrinkling his nose.

* * *

**Conquer.**

A/N: _What did you think?_

_I like how this chapter turned out much more. I feel like the characters might have (hopefully) been a bit closer to character than they had originally been. I remembered how much Japan hates Russia in the anime and tried to instigate it. Tell me what you think. :)_


	7. Bad Things

Disclaimer: _**We don't own Hetalia!**_

A/N: _Hey, everyo-!_

**Pollux . . . **_Yes, Castor? _**What is this? ↓ **_I decided to re-edit Return to the Viking Age. _**I thought I told you to leave it alone! **_*Shoves papers at Castor.* Read these! You'll think differently after you have._

_Anyway, while Castor's catching up on what I've done, it's time for more reminiscing. Every other likes to be praised for their work, and we're no different. When we didn't receive any praise for the first week or two (or three?) we were pretty down-hearted. We wondered if anyone even liked our story. And then _she _came. She called it 'beautiful', 'a wonderful blend of humor and action'. She even went so far as to say 'I love it!' She went on to read every single chapter and commented on every single one of them. Who is this girl, you ask. Well, if she's not saying 'aw, you're so sweet' right now, she better start doing it soon, Dalasport. Dala was the first person to praise our work and she's never faltered once, even when we took long breaks. In fact, every single one of you has stuck with us this whole time. And for that we are very thankful._

_Enjoy! Please review! (If you know any Cherokee, please correct me!)_

* * *

**What is going on?**

Russia was not a well-liked nation, except perhaps for a spare few. Both Japan and Poland's dislike for the larger nation well well-known by most of the others. Some thought perhaps America should hold a grudge, but the younger nation refused to. He laughed in their faces and said 'forgive and forget' then walked way.

Due to this unpopularity, only eight nations had been willing enough to return to Russia for another world meeting: Egypt, Cyprus, Turkey, Greece, Cuba, and Russia's sisters. The rest of the world's nation had thought it a hoax.

There was one other man in the room, a man none of the eight nations recognized. He was tall, nearly seven feet, with snow-white hair and equally pale eyes that lacked both an iris and a pupil. The man hadn't spoken once since he had entered the room, not even flinching when Turkey had growled at him.

It had been twenty minutes and Russia still hadn't arrived. The nations were growing restless.

"Who _are_ you?" Greece asked the pale, tall man. He had been dragged kicking and screaming to the world meeting by his archenemy: Turkey.

The pale man regarded Greece coolly for a moment before speaking. "I am Antarctica," he said in a voice that reminded Greece of winter winds. The gathered nations stared at him in shock, unable to find anything to say.

"But I thought Antarctica was a continent," Ukraine finally said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I am inhabited by scientists," Antarctica explained almost gently to Ukraine. "Not many people live at my house because it is inhabitable." A penguin squawked beside him, annoyed with rather warm temperature of the room.

Before any nation could make any more comments, the room's doors swung open on squeaky hinges and Russia strode in, faucet pipe in hand.

"Privet," Russia said, coming to a stop at the head of the table. "Thank you for returning; and thank you for joining us, Antarctica."

"It was not a problem on my part," Antarctica said in his chilling voice. "You _did _say this could affect the whole world, so I had no choice but to come."

"Da, and I meant what I said," Russia said. "I have also brought some terrible news."

"What is it, Big Brother?" Belarus asked, and Russia inched away from her hesitantly. "I can help you, and then we can get married!" She looked hopeful at the very thought, but Russia shivered and shook his head.

"Net," he said, a note of pleading in his voice. "I need everyone to help me with this."

"But, Big Brother," Belarus began, but Ukraine covered her mouth with a gentle hand, cutting off the rest of the sentence.

"Please continue, Russia," Ukraine told her younger brother with a small smile and Russia nodded to her thankfully before turning to the rest of the nations.

"I do not know if you have all heard," Russia said slowly. "But Little America has gone missing."

"Sí, I noticed," Cuba said, leaning back in his chair. "I haven't had any problems with that hijo de puta for a good couple of days now. It's been nice."

"Da?" Russia asked with a smile that made Cuba shiver. "You may not like what you are going to here, though. Denmark, Norway, and Sweden kidnapped America after the world meeting and got away with it because my security guards were too inept to check the crate that was with them."

"Ne?" Turkey asked in shock, but Russia did not stop there.

"They have also kidnapped Canada, Iceland, China, and Hong Kong," Russia added.

"¿Que?" Cuba asked in shock. His chair tipped too far back and he hit the floor with a loud _thunk_. "¡Maldita!"

"Da," Russia said, ignoring Cuba's swearing. "And I have no doubt in my mind they will strike again."

"Who do ya think they'll go after next?" Turkey asked worriedly as Cuba pulled his chair upright again and sat down. "Not all of us are that important, are we? Why did they kidnap Icy? He's small and weak, no threat at all."

"Iceland may be small," Russia agreed. "But he _is_ Norway's brother," he pointed out. A few of the nations were still trying to absorb the information while the others looked terrified at the prospect. Antarctica appeared just plain bored with the meeting.

The doors swung open once more and Japan led Taiwan, Macau, Vietnam, and Korea into the room. Mr. Puffin was perched on Taiwan's shoulder, swaying slightly with her movements.

"Sorry we're late," Taiwan said enthusiastically, Mr. Puffin swerving unsteadily on her shoulder. "The plane was delayed on our flight over."

"That is alright," Russia said, trying to smile reassuringly at the Asian nations. Japan sent him a glare before sitting down with Taiwan and Vietnam on either side of him.

"Did you tell them yet, Russia-san?" Japan asked stiffly.

"Da," Russia said. "I told them just before you came in."

"What do we do, da-ze?" Korea asked worriedly, his question went unanswered as realization dawned on some of the other nations.

"What about Finland?" Turkey asked. "Ya haven't said anythin' about him yet."

"Does anyone know where Little Finland is?" Russia asked, looking around the room.

"Yes!" Taiwan said, leaping out of her chair and waving her hand enthusiastically. "I saw him leaving with Estonia after the meeting, maybe he's still at Estonia's house."

"Good," Russia practically sighed in relief. "I will look into that with my sisters' help . . ." He trailed off when Agent Orlov pushed herself into the meeting room, the human's arms full of papers and folders.

"Forgive me for interrupting, Mister Russia," Agent Orlov said, trying to straighten the mountain of papers in her arms without dropping any of them.

"Da, what is it?" Russia asked, slightly annoyed. He had specifically asked his personal assistant to not bother him during the meeting.

"There are reports of several disturbances at the American-Mexican border," Agent Orlov said. She pulled folder out and passed it to Russia who opened it and examined the papers. "We cannot tell what is happening."

"Very well," Russia sighed as he closed the folder. "I will take Cuba to investigate the matter with me before we visit Estonia's house."

"¿Que?" Cuba demanded angrily, standing from his chair so quickly it fell over once more. "Why me? Why should I help the brat out?"

"Because Mexico is your sister," Russia explained, a dangerous note in his voice. "Denmark, Norway, and Sweden have just captured the world's only superpower. If they could do that without even noticing, how long do you think it would take them to seize your land, Comrade? You _will_ help me, da?" He leaned forward threateningly and Cuba shrank back against the wall.

"S-Sí," Cuba muttered, breathing a sigh of relief when Russia stepped away from him.

"I will come as well, Big Brother," Belarus said with a wave of her hand. Russia sent his older sister a pained expression, but Ukraine just shrugged helplessly.

"Very well," Russia relented. "You may come if you like, Belarus." Belarus let her hand fall back to the table, looking extremely pleased with herself. "Korea." The Asian nation jumped in his seat as he was addressed by the European nation. "May I speak with outside, please?" Russia asked, and Korea nodded slowly before following him out of the room.

The tension in the air was thick as the nations waited for Russia to return. It was several minutes before Korea bounded back into the room with a very determined look on his face. The young nation fell into his seat, hardly able to sit still as he bounced in place.

Taiwan leaned over Japan. "What did Russia want?" she asked curiously.

"He wants me to talk to someone for him, da-ze," Korea said, looking extremely excited about something.

"Who?" Taiwan pressed, but her question went unanswered as Russia cleared his throat.

"Cuba, Belarus," Russia said, stowing his faucet pipe in his coat. "We will be leaving now." Belarus practically bounced out of her seat while Cuba followed Russia at a more sedated pace, grumbling about annoying Americans and not wanting to help them.

"Well," Turkey said as he stood from his chair. "I guess that's the end of the meetin'." He surprised a sleeping Greece by grabbing the other nation around the waist and throwing him over his shoulder.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Greece demanded, kicking wildly in Turkey's grip, but Turkey just ignored him.

"I'm takin' all of ya with me," Turkey said, grabbing Cyprus by the wrist and motioning to Egypt. "I don't want any more nations disappearin'." He led Cyprus and Egypt from the room with a struggling Greece over his shoulder.

Japan rose from his seat. "I agree with Turkey-san," he said. "We should stay together; it will be safer. Korea-kun, will you please return to us once you have spoken with . . . your friend?"

"Ye, da-ze," Korea said excitedly before bounding from the room like a jackrabbit.

Vietnam shoved herself away from the table and stormed from the room with Macau and Taiwan hot on her heels. Japan nodded a farewell to Antarctica and Ukraine before following Vietnam out of the room.

"I-I will be seeing you around, Mr. Antarctica," Ukraine told the continent and then hurried from the room.

Antarctica was not alone for long. Agent Orlov approached the continent hesitantly, still trying to shuffle the pile of papers in her arms. She ignored the penguin that squawked at her.

"Mister Antarctica," Agent Orlov said, and the continent turned to look down at her.

"Yes?" Antarctica asked in his chilling voice.

"Mister Russia would like you to retrieve the micronations from their meeting in Sealand," Agent Orlov told the continent. "He asks that you take them to your house so Denmark, Norway, and Sweden cannot get ahold of them. General Winter will accompany you to ensure their safety."

"Very well," Antarctica said, slowly standing from his chair. He towered over the human before him. "I will leave immediately."

"Spasibo," Agent Orlov said. "And good luck." She left quickly, the doors swinging shut behind her.

Antarctica sighed and scratched his penguin's head. "At least I won't be so lonely now," he commented to himself.

.o.)O(.o.

The door of the house flew open and collided with the wall with a might _crash_. A dent was left in the wall and the door swung uneasily on its hinges. Denmark lowered his foot to the ground, having kicked the door in to open it.

"Just what I get fer riding a dragon," Denmark grumbled to himself as he marched into the room, Hong Kong over one shoulder. "A sore butt."

"You said you wanted a fast trip," Norway pointed out in annoyance. He was getting sick of Denmark's griping.

"Ja, but dragons have rough scales," Denmark practically pouted.

"Grow up," Norway grumbled, and Denmark glowered at him.

"Wh're are we p'tting th'se two?" Sweden asked, quickly changing the subject before either Denmark or Norway could kill the other.

"Simple," Norway said. "We put them to work."

"Th't d'pends on how quickly they break," Sweden pointed out, shifting China on his shoulder. The ancient nation grumbled but didn't outright complain about his discomfort.

"I agree with Sve," Denmark said. "We need ta teach these two who their masters are before they can be released."

"What are you talking about, aru?" China asked unsurely, trying to look over Sweden's shoulder. Hong Kong shifted restlessly on Denmark's shoulder.

"Yer our slaves now, China," Denmark snapped at the ancient nation. "Ya better get used ta it." He dropped Hong Kong to the floor, causing the young nation to yelp in both pain and surprise, while China was lowered to the floor by Sweden. The belts were unbuckled from around China and Hong Kong's wrists and legs, freeing the two nations.

The minute he was free, Hong Kong struck out at Denmark hard with a foot. The Viking swore and grabbed his chin in one hand and Hong Kong's ankle in the other.

"Yer going ta regret that," Denmark snarled, dragging a struggling Hong Kong toward himself.

"Let me go!" Hong Kong shouted, trying to kick Denmark again, but it was useless. The Nordic nation threw him over his shoulder once more and marched toward a dark door.

Behind the door was a set of staircase that led to a large room. The room was littered with torture devices, chains hanging from the walls. A furnace sat in the corner, a rack of brands settled beside it.

Sweden shoved China before him, having forced the ancient nation to descend the stairs. Norway shut the door at the top of the stairs. The lock clicked with an ominous sound that made Hong Kong whimper and Norway made his way down the stairs.

"What is this place, aru?" China asked weakly. His mouth had gone dry at the sight of the whips carefully laid out on the table.

"Norge has some big fancy name for it," Denmark said with a wave of his hand. "But I just like calling it the Fiery Pits of Hell." He felt Hong Kong shiver on his shoulder and he grinned. "I bet ya wished ya hadn't kicked me now?"

"Leave Hong Kong alone, aru," China demanded before withering under Denmark's glare.

"I don't think so," the Nordic nation said. "He deserves ta be punished."

"Bùshì," China disagreed. "He only hit you because you attacked him first. I would have done the same thing, aru."

"If ya hadn't been so old?" Denmark asked with a wicked grin, and China flushed angrily. "It really is his fault, though. He wouldn't be in this position if he didn't try ta cause trouble."

"T-Teacher," Hong Kong whimpered, struggling helplessly on Denmark's shoulder. "Help me!" he wailed. China moved to aid his younger brother, but Sweden grabbed him by the upper arms and dragged him backward.

"Bùshì, aru!" China shouted. He tried to struggle, but it was useless. Sweden was both stronger and larger than he was.

Hong Kong was thrown unceremoniously to the floor. He struggled to crawl away from Denmark, but the taller nation planted a foot on his back.

"Teacher," Hong Kong sobbed. "Help me, please!"

"Knock it off," Denmark snapped. Bending down, he grabbed Hong Kong's hair in a painful grip and dragged the Asian nation to his feet. Hong Kong whimpered and clutched at Denmark's hand.

"Hong Kong, aru!" China lunged forward once more but Sweden effortlessly held him back. Denmark hesitated for a split second, his eyes flicking between the sobbing Hong Kong and the struggling China.

Denmark forced Hong Kong to look at him. "Do ya know what ya did wrong?" he asked in an almost gentle voice.

"Bú," Hong Kong sobbed, shaking his head. "Please."

"What did he say?" Denmark demanded at China. The ancient nation licked his lips nervously.

"He said 'no', aru," he told Denmark.

"Nej?" Denmark repeated, glaring at Hong Kong. "Ya don't know what ya did wrong? Then I guess ya get ta be punished. Sve, stick China over there and come hold this brat for me."

Sweden grunted and dragged China across the room to lock him in the chains against the wall. Only once the shackles had been successfully locked did Sweden make his way back to Denmark.

"What are you doing, aru?" China demanded, yanking at the shackles holding his arms tightly.

"Shut up, China," Denmark snapped. He shoved Hong Kong toward Sweden who grabbed the smaller nation by the upper arms in a vice-like grip. Denmark ripped the back of Hong Kong's duangua open to bare his smooth back to the chilly air.

"Leave Hong Kong alone, aru!" China shouted. He watched as Norway placed a brand into the roaring fire of the forge.

Denmark ran a hand over Hong Kong's right shoulder blade, as though trying to decide a good spot for a brand. Hong Kong whimpered and dropped his weight to the floor; but Sweden just grunted and hauled him back to his feet.

"It's ready," Norway said. Denmark removed the cherry-red brand from the forge.

"Please," Hong Kong begged through tears. "I'm sorry." His useless struggling increased as Denmark approached him from behind.

"It too late fer that," Denmark said; and he plunged the brand down on Hong Kong's right shoulder blade. Hong Kong's screams filled the room and he thrashed to escape the searing pain on his skin.

"Hong Kong, aru!" China shouted helplessly.

Denmark pulled the brand away from Hong Kong's shoulder blade and tossed it aside with a clatter. The brand had left a burn in the shape of a Scandinavian cross on Hong Kong's skin. The Asian nation was released from Sweden's iron grip and he collapsed to the floor in a sobbing heap.

"Wh't about th't one?" Sweden asked Denmark, nodding to China who shrank back against the wall.

"Right ya are, Sve," Denmark said as he watched China with a predatory look. "China needs ta know where his place is in this house."

China watched fearfully as Denmark returned to the forge to grab another cherry hot brand. Sweden approached China and unchained him from the wall, throwing the ancient nation to the floor and pinning him there. China's mandarin jacket was ripped open at the back just as Hong Kong's duangua had been.

"Aiyah!" China screamed as he struggled. "Please, stop, aru!"

Denmark ignored China and pressed the brand against the Asian nation's right shoulder. China's screams intensified and he thrashed against Sweden's grip. It was several minutes until he calmed down; even after Denmark had pulled the brand away and tossed it into a bucket of water.

"Can ya clean these two up, Norge?" Denmark asked his brother. "Yer the one who knows what ta do with them." He left before Norway could answer, earning himself a glare.

Norway grabbed a bottle and cloth from the table of whips and approached Hong Kong with silent steps. Reaching down, he gently touched Hong Kong's unburned shoulder. The younger nation flinched away, trying to stifle his sobs.

"It's alright, Hong Kong," Norway soothed. "You'll feel better soon." He soaked the cloth with the contents of the bottle and dabbed at Hong Kong's burn. Hong Kong whimpered, fresh tears forming in his eyes. He had never felt something so painful before, even when Japan had attacked him.

Slowly, a numbing pain overtook the burning sensation and Hong Kong relaxed. His sobbing petered down to nothing more than sniffling. He laid helplessly on the floor as Norway straightened up.

"Sve, will you take Hong Kong to his new room?" he asked. "I need to take care of China."

"Ja," Sweden grunted, and lifted a near-unconscious Hong Kong into his arms.

Hong Kong was barely aware of their ascent up the stairs. He watched the scarlet walls of Denmark's house pass by through half-closed eyelids. There was another flight of stairs and then a door was opened. Sweden's strong arms suddenly disappeared and Hong Kong found himself dumped on the floor. He hit the carpet with a yelp. He was aware of the door snapping shut and then a new voice.

"Hong Kong?"

Wide awake now, Hong Kong spun around to see his best friend laying on a bed. Iceland was watching him with glazed eyes.

"What happened?" Iceland asked, trying to support himself on an elbow. He was trembling with the effort of it.

"Iceland," Hong Kong said in a sort of dazed way before he broke out into tears. "Iceland!"

"What happened?" Iceland repeated firmly. He forced himself to sit up, almost falling back with a wave of dizziness. The room was rocking to and fro.

"Your brothers are crazy," Hong Kong sobbed. "They burned me."

"Hvað?" Iceland demanded. Standing shakily from the bed, he stumbled his way to Hong Kong's side. He examined Hong Kong's new brand before falling back onto the floor with a green tinge in his face. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said.

"A-Are you alright?" Hong Kong asked, wiping tears away with the sleeves of what was left of his duangua.

"I don't' know," Iceland said. "I remember throwing Mr. Puffin out the window, and then Norge touched my shoulder and I blacked out. I don't very well right now," he moaned and shuddered.

"Mr. Puffin found me," Hong Kong said, trying to calm down. "I took him to China's house, but then your brothers attacked us. Mr. Puffin escaped; he's waiting for Japan to find him."

"I hope he's alright," Iceland sighed. He leaned against Hong Kong. "I'm sorry for getting you into this trouble."

"It's not your fault," Hong Kong pointed out. "You didn't know this was going to happen." He wrapped an arm around Iceland's shoulders, wincing when his right shoulder was jostled by the movement.

"Are you going to be okay?" Iceland asked, his voice slightly muffled by Hong Kong's shoulder.

"Duì, I just hope Teacher will be alright," Hong Kong said. "He's not as young as he used to be." Iceland pulled out of the hug to see if his friend was laughing but Hong Kong just had the same blunt expression he always did.

"China should be fine," Iceland said. "They won't be too hard on him." His confidence slipped and he added in a whisper: "I hope."

Hong Kong pulled his friend into another hug. "What is going on?"

.o.)O(.o.

The door to the study was ripped open and Sweden dragged China into the room by his neck. The ancient nation was shoved to the floor at a grinning Denmark's feet. His burn had been cared for by Norway before he'd been dragged away.

"Yer going ta be a lot of trouble," Denmark said. "I can already tell." China stared at the floor, refusing to rise up to the jab. Something leather wrapped around his throat and was locked before China had a chance to react.

"That has a tracker in it," Denmark told China as the ancient nation's hands flew to his throat to feel the leather collar. "Now ya won't be able ta run off without us knowing where ya are."

"Why are you doing this?" China demanded as he tugged uselessly on the collar. The buckle was too complicated for his blind fingers to solve on their own. "Are you trying to take over the world, aru?"

"We just want out power back," Denmark said innocently. "And yer going ta keep that collar on if ya know what's good fer ya. Now, ta go over yer jobs."

"Who said I was going to work for you, aru?" China demanded hotly.

"Ya don't have a choice," Denmark snapped back. "We didn't kidnap ya just because yer pretty. And there's one more thing I like about that collar," he added with a grin, holding up a small remote. He smashed one of the buttons down and a jolt of electricity surged through China, causing the nation to fall back in writhing pain.

"And that's only level one," Denmark said gleefully. "There's three levels: two ta shock ya inta obedience and one ta knock ya out. The whole perimeter of this house is set up with an invisible fence."

China stared at Denmark in shock. He was finally seeing the Viking at his best: terrifyingly strong and wickedly merciless. China's head dropped to his chest and he sat back on his heels.

"That's better," Denmark said. "Now, yer jobs are ta take care of America and Canada, but ya can't help them escape. That goes fer Iceland too. Don't worry about Hong Kong, though, he's in good hands. Yer in charge of cooking meals, and cleaning whenever ya feel like it."

China gaped at Denmark before managing an answer. "That is a ridiculous amount of work," he said incredulously. "And why do I have to take care of the brats, aru?"

"Because I told ya ta," Denmark growled. "Ya don't have ta do much with the kiddies; just make sure they stay out of trouble. Besides that, yer really just taking care of the household. Oh, and China." China yelped when he suddenly found himself being dragged up by his collar. Denmark's knuckles crushed his esophagus, cutting off the ancient nation's air.

"Don't ya ever call my kids 'brats' again," Denmark snarled dangerously. "Understand?" China nodded, choking and scrabbling at Denmark's hand. "Good boy." Denmark dropped China to the floor with a grin. He mussed China's hair. "Have fun, min lille hund. _(my little dog.)_"

China gasped and coughed as he tried to take in air and clear his throat at the same time. He was barely aware of the door snapping shut behind Denmark.

"You are all crazy, aru," China muttered under his breath. His throat ached with every breath he took.

"Wh't was th't?" Sweden asked, and China jumped in surprise. He hadn't been aware Sweden was still in the room.

"N-Nothing, aru," China said quickly, scuttling backward in fear.

Sweden stared at China for several seconds before he finally turned and left the study. China breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe for the time being.

.o.)O(.o.

It had been nearly an hour since Sweden had locked Hong Kong in Iceland's room. The two young nations had situated themselves on Iceland's bed beside each other. Iceland had found Hong Kong a new shirt in one of the drawers of the dresser in the corner. Hong Kong had laughed when Iceland had remarked on the creepiness of Norway hording his clothes. The humor of the situation had been lost when they'd sat down on the bed together.

"What do you think they're going to do with us?" Iceland asked after several minutes of silence. He wrapped his arms around his knees and propped his chin on them.

"I don't know," Hong Kong said. "Norway's _your_ brother."

"I really he wasn't right now," Iceland muttered into his arms.

"Weren't you a Viking?" Hong Kong asked. "Why aren't you acting crazy like they are?"

"I was colonized by Norge when he was a Viking," Iceland explained to his friend. "I just sort of grew up with him while he went off with Denmark and Sweden and colonized Greenland and Vinland."

"What about Finland?" Hong Kong asked.

"He was invaded by Vikings," Iceland said. "But he never really partook in that kind of stuff. He mostly just spent his time alone until Sve took control of him during the twelfth century. I met Fin during the Kalmar Union. Fin and Sve left, then Norge, and I was left alone with Dan."

"That's sad," Hong Kong commented. "At least it's only Denmark, Norway, and Sweden."

The door to the room burst open, surprising both Hong Kong and Iceland. Denmark and Sweden stood in the doorway.

"Having fun without us?" Denmark asked with a grin.

Hong Kong sank back against the wall in fear. Iceland wrapped his arms protectively around his friend.

"What do you want?" Iceland demanded. He tried to glare at his fellow Nordic nations, but it wasn't very effective.

"Is that any way ta talk ta yer friend?" Denmark chuckled. "We were just dropping by ta tell ya yer free ta leave yer room now." Hong Kong peeked over Iceland's shoulders at the tall nations, wondering if he'd heard correctly. "There's just one thing we have ta do first."

"And what's that?" Iceland asked. He pressed himself closer to Hong Kong when Denmark and Sweden approached the bed. They towered over the Asian and Nordic nations.

"Nothing really," Denmark said. "Just this."

Iceland yelped as he was grabbed by the front of the shirt and yanked off the bed. He heard Hong Kong cry out in fear as Sweden did the same thing to him. Denmark captured him in a rather painful headlock and bared Iceland's throat. Something leather brushed against Iceland's skin and buckled. Iceland struggled hard until he was suddenly thrown back onto the bed. He was joined seconds later by Hong Kong.

"Ya can't leave the property without being shocked unconscious," Denmark said as Iceland felt the leather collar around his throat. "And I don't feel like searching fer ya in a blizzard. Oh, one more thing." Digging in his pocket, Denmark withdrew a leash and locked it to Hong Kong's collar. "I don't want yer pet wandering around the house on his own."

Hong Kong gaped at Denmark before finding his voice. "Sh-Shénme?" he stuttered.

"Quit speaking other languages," Denmark snarled at Hong Kong. "The only ones ya can speak here are ours." He turned to Iceland, visibly calming down. "What are ya going ta call him?"

"Hvað?" Iceland asked in disbelief.

"What are ya going ta call yer pet?" Denmark asked in an annoyed voice. Hong Kong tugged lightly on the leash and Denmark sent him a glare.

"He already has a name," Iceland said in confusion.

"Wǒ bùshì chǒngwù, _(I am not a pet,)_" Hong Kong snapped at Denmark, yanking harder on his leash.

"Knock it off," Denmark ordered as he jerked on the leash. Hong Kong was sent tumbled to the floor. Iceland leapt to his feet to help his friend but was stopped with a firm hand on his arm.

"I don't like his name," Denmark told Iceland in a dangerous voice. "Pick a new one, or I will." Iceland thought quickly, racking his brains for what he could possibly choose.

"Vinur," he finally said, and Hong Kong looked up at him curiously.

"What about Hvalp?" Denmark asked with a frown. "Or Lille Kina." Iceland's brow furrowed at the degrading names.

"I like Vinur," Iceland said.

Denmark shrugged. "Fine," he said. "Have fun with Vinur." Hong Kong's new leash was passed to Iceland and the Vikings left the room. The door was shut behind them but remained unlocked.

"What does 'Vinur' mean?" Hong Kong asked as he clambered back onto the bed. His shoulder was starting to sting again.

"It's Icelandic for 'Friend'," Iceland told his friend, earning himself a smile.

"I like it," Hong Kong said.

"I thought it was better than what Denmark chose," Iceland muttered, a small blush on his cheeks. "He wanted to call you 'Puppy' or 'Little China'."

"Those sound mean," Hong Kong commented with a wrinkle of his nose.

"They're probably supposed to be degrading, or something like that." Iceland said. "I couldn't give you anything from their languages. If you don't want to speak any of their languages, you can always try mine. It's different enough from theirs."

"Even though Norway found you?" Hong Kong asked curiously.

"Já," Iceland said with a serious nod. "Since I'm an island, I was isolated from Norge, Dan, and Sve's evolving languages. Icelandic is the closest thing you'll find to Old Norse."

"I'd like to learn it," Hong Kong said eagerly.

Iceland blinked in surprise. "O-Okay. Um, well, like I said: 'vinur' means 'friend'," Iceland said before grinning shyly at Hong Kong. "'Ass' is 'rass'. You can also say 'fara til helvítis' which means 'go to hell'." Hong Kong laughed at that, stopping when a voice seeped through the wall.

"Hey, Iceland," the voice shouted. "Why are you teaching Hong Kong insults?" It was America.

Looking at each other, Iceland and Hong Kong scrambled from the bed and dashed other neighboring room. America and Canada were laying on identical beds. The brothers watched Iceland and Hong Kong warily.

"Hæ," America finally said, nodding a greeting. Hong Kong didn't answer. He could only stare at the brothers with wide eyes.

"Halló," Iceland said, nudging his friend in the ribs.

"What happened to you?" Hong Kong asked, and Iceland smacked himself in the forehead. He had meant to make Hong Kong stop staring, not ask rude questions.

"We could ask you the same question," Canada said, eyeing the collars and Hong Kong's leash. "Why are you treating your friend like a dog, Iceland?" he asked in an icy voice.

"Dan's making me do it," Iceland said quickly. "I have to call Hong Kong 'Vinur' now."

"But what are you doing here?" Hong Kong asked Canada.

"Denmark, Norway, and Sweden think America and I are their sons," Canada sighed.

"And are you?" Hong Kong pressed curiously. Iceland would have stomped on his friend's foot, but he doubted Hong Kong would have taken the hint.

"Yes," Canada said at the same time America said: "No."

"You can't ignore it forever," Canada told America who pulled a face at him. "It was mostly me," he explained to a wide-eyed Hong Kong. "They found L'Anse aux Meadows. They would have moved further south into America if E-Tsi _(Mother)_ hadn't stopped them."

"I have younger brothers?" Iceland asked softly. America and Canada watched him warily, surprised when Iceland lit up with joy. "Cool! You two can call me Eldri Bróðir." America cracked up laughing while Canada pouted.

"Another older sibling," America managed to choke out.

"I'm still the run," Canada moaned forlornly.

"What do you mean 'another'?" Hong Kong asked America curiously. The North American nation sobered up quickly.

"We were raised by Greenland," Canada said before America could try to explain himself. "That was before England found America and Papa found me. She would always return whenever France and England were gone to continue raising us."

"I miss Greeny," America sighed. "I haven't seen her in years."

"How many time have I told you not to call her 'Greeny'?" Canada demanded.

Before America could answer with a witty remark, there was a shout from the doorway.

"Hong Kong!" China called in relief and tackled Hong Kong in a hug. "I was so worried about you, aru."

"Nǐ hǎo, Teacher," Hong Kong said, patting his older brother reassuringly on the shoulder.

China pulled back from the hug and spotted the leash. His eyes followed it to Iceland's hand.

"Why are you wearing a leash, aru?" China asked in a dangerous voice. His eyes narrowed at Iceland.

"I-It's not what you think," Iceland said quickly. "Dan's making me do it!"

"He's telling the truth," Hong Kong added.

"Besides," America piped up. "Iceland's too small to actually hurt anyone." This earned him a seething glare from Iceland. "Dude, you don't even have a military."

"Iceland has to call me 'Vinur'," Hong Kong explained to China. He grabbed Iceland by the sleeve before the other nation could jump at America. "Denmark is making him treat me like a pet. Iceland is going to teach me Icelandic so I won't have to learn Danish, Norwegian, or Swedish."

China listened intently before huffing. "Fine," he said hotly. "But I still do not like it, aru."

"No one said you had to," Iceland muttered, earning himself a smack on the head from Hong Kong. "Ow, it's not my fault my brother and his friends are crazy!"

"Bú," Hong Kong agreed. "But I do have six annoying siblings."

"Hong Kong, aru," China reprimanded his younger brother, but Hong Kong ignored him.

"I have an egotistical older brother," Canada sighed, and America stuck his tongue out at him.

"And I'm stuck with an annoying younger brother and a sister who's bipolar and has short-term memory loss," America countered. "Hey, Iceland, my right hand itches really badly."

Iceland obliged, moving forward to scratch the back of America's hand until the larger nation thanked him.

"Is this what siblings are for?" Iceland asked, earning himself a grin in response.

"Siblings are there to stand by your side," America said sagely. "Even when the going gets tough. Trust me, I've had years of experience." Hong Kong and China shared guilty looks. "But they're also there to bug the crap out of you and spin your head five ways to Sunday."

A sudden loud and boisterous voice shouted up the stairs, causing the five nations to start in surprise.

"Stay out of trouble while we're out," Denmark called loudly. "We're going to have some fun!"

Hong Kong twisted the leash in his hands worriedly. "Where are they going?" he asked nervously.

Iceland shrugged. "Who knows?" he asked. "I just hope they don't cause any trouble."

**Bad things.**

* * *

A/N: _What did you think?_

**Okay, this is actually a lot better than your first editing job. **_Thanks! . . . Hey! _**What? I'm complimenting you! **_Grr, whatever. I'll see y'all later._


	8. We Came ta Play

Disclaimer: _**We don't own Hetalia!**_

A/N: _**Hey, everyone!**_

**Alright, I'll let you continue on with your little project. But I don't want it interfering with the upcoming story. **_You mean our one year anniversary? _**No, I mean the story about you being thrown off a cliff. **_When are we . . . hey! _**Now she gets it. Whatever, I have to get back to planning the anniversary.**

_**5 days!**_

_Aw, look, the micronations. :) I hate those little buggers. I was stupid enough to call all of them, I don't know why._

_You know, I used to _hate_ Author's Notes. I would despise it when someone wrote one and swore to myself Castor and I wouldn't write them in our stories . . . well, that plan failed!_

_Enjoy! Please review! (Hej to our Danish reader and Nǐ hǎo to the Chinese reader who caught up. :))_

* * *

**What are you three doing?**

Unaware of the dangers happening to the nations outside his fortress, Sealand had called a micronation meeting. Just like the nations' world meetings, it was not going smoothly. Ladonia had once again declared that he should be leading the meeting, to which Sealand had not exactly reacted positively.

"I was the one who started this club," Sealand shouted at Ladonia. "So I get to be in control of the meetings."

"But that's unfair," Ladonia snapped, crossing his arms. "Unlike you, I have actually been recognized by Sweden while England refuses to recognize _you_."

"It doesn't matter what Jerk England says," Sealand said angrily. "I'm a nation!"

"Turkey has recognized me." Northern Cyprus' soft comment went unnoticed as Ladonia and Sealand continued their fight with Wy, Hutt River, Seborga, and Kugelmugel watching them.

"Why are we even here?" Molossia demanded with crossed arms. "I have better things to do with my time." Sealand threw a paperweight at Ladonia who countered by throwing a crumpled ball of paper at Sealand.

"Like what?" Wy asked curiously. Sealand started shouting rude insults at Ladonia and Seborga laughed.

"That's none of your business," Molossia snapped at Wy. Ladonia leapt at Sealand, seizing the other micronation by the front of his sailor suit and shaking him.

"This is art," Kugelmugel said as he examined the paperweight Sealand had thrown. "It's art!" Molossia glared at him and Hutt River laughed.

"If all those two losers are going to do is fight," Molossia said, standing from his chair. "Then I'm out of here."

The American micronation's hand had just brushed the door's handle when the door burst open. He leapt back in surprise, his eyes widening. A seven foot tall man with snowy hair and pearly eyes ducked into the room. He examined the gathered micronations with an aloof air.

"Who the hell are you?" Molossia demanded. Sealand and Ladonia stopped fighting long enough to stare at the newcomer.

"How did you get in here?" Sealand demanded, shoving Ladonia off himself. "This is a secret meeting house."

"It's your house," Molossia roared at Sealand. "There's nothing secret about it!"

"I am Antarctica," the icy man said. A penguin waddled past him and up to Wy, squawking at her.

"Antarctica?" Hutt River repeated, and Northern Cyprus peeked around him. "Haven't I seen you at Australia's house?" Antarctica shrugged but didn't offer any answers.

"But Antarctica's not even a country," Ladonia argued. "There's no possible way it could have a personification."

The penguin squawked at Wy again who made a shooing motion with her hand. It snapped at the micronation's waving hand.

"I might not be a country," Antarctica agreed. "But I am a continent."

"Country or not," Sealand said hotly, crossing his arms. "You're not allowed to be here. This meeting is for micronations only."

"There's nothing wrong with Antarctica being here, is there?" Seborga asked. "He's not recognized by the world either."

"I don't care!" Sealand shouted and stomped his foot. "This is my meeting! Mine!"

"Get away from me," Wy squealed. The penguin had chased her onto a table. It squawked at her once more and pecked at the table.

"Russia sent me to collect you," Antarctica said, ignoring Sealand's temper tantrum. "You are all returning with me to my house."

"Says who?" Molossia demanded angrily.

"Says me," Antarctica said, and with that he swooped down and threw Sealand over his shoulder.

Seborga froze in his pondering of Antarctica's existence and Molossia's mouth hung open. Sealand was still for no more than a second before he started screaming and beating at Antarctica's back.

"Put me down," the British micronation screeched. "You can't treat me like this, I'm a nation!"

And with that, all hell broke loose. The penguin managed to squawk and peck Wy on the leg who shrieked and raced out of the room, the penguin hot on her heels.

"Wy!" Hutt River shouted, and chased after his younger sister.

Molossia threw a punch at Antarctica, surprised when the continent did not react to the blow. Antarctica simply bent down and folded Molossia over his other shoulder.

"Hey!" Molossia shouted angrily. "Put me down!" He beat at Antarctica's back, but to no avail. It was as though Antarctica couldn't feel anything, not even Sealand's blows.

Ladonia, Seborga, Northern Cyprus, and Kugelmugel gaped at Antarctica for no more than a second before for the four of them raced from the room. Antarctica followed them at a more sedated pace.

"Put me down!" Molossia shrieked.

"You can't do this to a country!" Sealand was screaming.

Antarctica made his way through the 'secret base' that was really Sealand's house and to the deck. It was chaos. Wy had been thrown over a scientist's shoulder and Hutt River had been pinned to the ground. Another scientist clutched a screaming laptop close to his chest. Northern Cyprus had been backed into a corner and was crying for Turkey. Seborga was folded over a scientist's shoulder having been knocked out by an accidental blow to the head, Kugelmugel over the other shoulder.

"_Is this all of them?"_ an elderly looking man formed next to Antarctica. It was General Winter.

"Yes," Antarctica said with a nod. "Load them onto the boat," he called to the scientists.

The micronations were herded onto a small ship and locked away in separate rooms. Ladonia was released from his laptop which was confiscated, much to the micronation's anger. Antarctica locked Sealand's door, ignoring the micronation's pounding on the steel, and turned away to return to the control room. He wanted to get home as quickly as he could.

.o.)O(.o.

It was a fifteen hour flight from Moscow to Austen, Texas. If the plane ride had been uncomfortable; it was nothing compared to the dry weather of Texas. Belarus had started sweating the moment she'd stepped off the plane, not used to such hot temperatures, but Russia had been just fine. In fact, he'd seemed to be enjoying the weather. He even refused to remove his coat, despite Cuba's warnings.

"Why are we here?" Cuba asked as he stalked through the barren land. "I forgot why you dragged me all the way to la casa del hijo de puta. _(the bastard's house.)_" He had made his opinion of being in America's land vocal ever since his first step off the plane.

"My agents have noticed a disturbance of some kind around this area," Russia said, looking around himself. All around them was a strange blend of desert and tropical terrain with the grass growing tall.

"It's not our problem," Cuba grumbled before trailing off into indistinguishable Spanish.

"Big Brother," Belarus said, ignoring Cuba's complaints. "I must speak to you about something important."

"Da, what is it?" Russia asked fearfully. He prayed she wasn't going to ask him to marry her.

Belarus had just opened her mouth to respond when a shot rang through the air, causing Cuba to jump in surprise and Russia's head to snap up. The shot was followed moments later by an angry voice.

"Stay off my land, you rotten varmint!" The voice was young and female with a strange twang in it.

Another voice rang through the air. "You little puta!" Cuba's heart sunk at his sister's recognizable tone.

"Was that Mexico?" Russia asked Cuba who nodded grimly.

"Sí," Cuba said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'd know la voz de mi hermana _(the voice of my sister)_ anywhere. I don't know who the other chica is, though."

"¡Vuelve aquí, así que puedo disparar! _(Get back here so I can shoot you!)_" The shout was followed by several shots being fired into the air.

"¡No!" the second voice shouted back. "¿Quién es usted? _(Who are you?)_" A Hispanic woman with dark hair falling in curls crested the hill. She wore a dress that had a white blouse and black skirt decorated with green and red swirls.

"¡Yo soy esta tierra, puta! _(I am this land!)_" The twanging voice was followed by a blonde woman who looked remarkably like America. She had a shotgun clutched in her hands.

Mexico yelped when the shorter girl fired a shot into the air and raced down the hill. Spotting the three nations at the base, she raced for cover behind the tallest: Russia.

"¡Usted no es América! _(You aren't America!)_" Mexico shouted from behind Russia.

Russia stood his ground with a straight face against the girl bearing down on him, the shotgun aimed at the sky. The blonde girl came to a skidding halt before him.

"What is going on here?" Russia asked, but his question went ignored as the girl with the twanging accent continued her angry rant.

"¡Sí!" the girl said angrily. "Siempre voy a ser el sur de América. Usted no tiene derecho a esta tierra, ahora salir. _(I will always be the South of America. You have no right to this land, now leave.)_"

Russia blinked, trying to figure out what was going on between the two girls. The language barrier was making it rather difficult, though.

"Privet," Russia said to the girl standing before her. "I am Russia." The girl cocked her head like a curious dog.

"Dame el varmint, y nadie se saldrá herido," the girl said, cocking the shotgun in a rather threatening manner.

Russia looked to Cuba. "What did she say?" he asked curiously.

"She said 'give me the varmint, and no one gets hurt'," Cuba translated for Russia and Belarus. "I'm pretty sure she was being serious." He eyed the shotgun in the girl's hands warily.

Reaching over the small distance, Russia grabbed the shotgun and wrenched it out of the girl's hand. The girl gave an angry cry of dismay when her gun was snapped in half over the Slavic nation's knee.

"Not anymore, da," Russia said, tossing the pieces of the gun aside. The girl gaped at him for a moment or two before suddenly leaping at him and punching every bit of Russia she could reach.

"¡Hijo de puta!" the girl shrieked furiously. "¿Cómo pudiste hacer eso? _(How could you do that?)_"

Russia shoved the girl back to the ground. "YA ne govoryu po-ispanski, malen'kuyu devochku," he said dangerously. "Kto ty? _(Who are you?)_"

"No importa, _(Never mind,)_" the girl said, ignoring Russia's questions. "Tengo más. _(I have more.)_" She ripped a pistol from her bot and aimed it at Mexico when the nation stuck her head around Russia.

"Eep!" Mexico jerked her head back before the girl could fire a shot at her.

Russia was prepared to tackle the girl in order to make her stop when a hand closed around the girl's. Belarus stepped between her brother and the girl.

"Spyni, Juh, _(Stop, South,)_" Belarus said gently.

Mexico peered around Russia curiously once more. "¿Qué?" she demanded hotly. Her remark went unnoticed as the girl stared at Belarus in shock.

"JA ciabie viedaju? _(Do I know you?)_" the girl asked in slight shock.

"Tak, JA Bielaruś, _(I am Belarus,)_" Belarus told the girl, keeping a steady gaze. The girl cocked her head like a puppy, thinking for a moment, before she broke out into a wide smile.

"Bélarus!" she exclaimed in French, throwing herself into a tight hug. Belarus surprised her bother by returning the hug almost as enthusiastically.

"You know this little girl?" Russia asked his younger sister in shock.

"Tak," Belarus said, pulling out of the hug. "This is what I needed to tell you about, Big Brother."

"Who is she?" Cuba asked curiously.

"¡Una puta!" Mexico shouted from behind Russia.

"Sigue hablando, _(Keep talking,) _varmint," the girl said, leaning around Russia to glare at Mexico. "Y voy a dispararte. _(And I will shoot you.)_"

"Chica loca, _(Crazy girl,)_" Mexico spat.

"Vaya de nuevo a donde perteneces, te varmint podrido, _(Go back where you belong, you rotten varmint,)_" the American girl retorted.

"Ambos de te callas, _(Both of you shut up,)_" Cuba roared before either of the Spanish-speaking women could yell at each other. "Antes de que me golpee sus cabezas juntas. _(Before I knock your heads together!)_" Mexico huffed while the girl rocked back on her heels.

"Belarus," Russia said to his younger sister. "Who is this little girl?" He had just realized this was the very girl from the footage he had seen in the surveillance room.

"This is the Confederate States of America," Belarus said calmly. "But we call her South." It was so quiet, the chirping crickets were heard in the distance.

"Net," Russia finally said. "The Confederate States of America lost; he is dead."

South flushed brightly. "Hear tell, big guy," she snapped at Russia. "You ain't ever goin' to call me a boy again, or I'll whup you into the next week." She jabbed Russia rather hard in the chest to make her point clear. "You will never speak to me in such a manner again. I'll be, callin' me a boy. I'm fit as a fiddle here and now. Who do y'all think you are, anyway?" South glared at Russia.

Snapping out of his daze, Russia found his voice. "I am Russia," he said. "And this is Comrade Cuba. Apparently you already know my little sister Belarus, and Mexico."

South glared at Mexico. "Uppity varmint," she growled. "Thinkin' she can come into Big Brother's land and take it for herself."

"Then you already know Little America has been kidnapped?" Russia asked in surprise.

"Someone came, yes," South admitted. "They told me Big Brother was missin'. I felt it in my gut a few days ago, and I always trust my gut. Unless I eat bad Mexican food, then I just try to ignore it." Mexico glowered at her.

"Who told you?" Russia pressed.

"Well, he said he was North's brother," South said slowly. "But he ain't!" She stomped her foot in a childish rage.

"Do you mean Canada?" Russia asked after a moment of thinking. There was only one other possible nation who would call himself America's brother.

"Yeah, Canida," South said, sounding very sure of the way she had said the northern nation's name.

Cuba smacked himself in the forehead. "She's as bad as the hija de puta," he muttered to himself.

"Net," Russia said with a shake of his head. "It is 'Canada'."

"That's what I said," South said firmly. "Cinada." Russia sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but South didn't stop there. "Hey, did y'all hear the one how a country got their name? They picked letters out of a hat and said: 'C, eh, N, eh, D, eh'!" She looked at the group excitedly, as though expecting praise.

"She can't remember his name," Cuba said through gritted teeth. "But she can remember a joke about him?" he demanded.

"Eh!" South exclaimed.

"I do not have time for this," Russia muttered.

"She has short-term memory loss," Belarus admitted. The way she said this suggested South's problems didn't stop there.

"I do not care if she is bipolar," Russia snapped at his sister in annoyance. "We need to return to my house so I can find Finland and Estonia."

"I'm bipolar?" South repeated incredulously. "Don't you dare go callin' me names, big guy." She took a threatening step toward Russia, stopping at the sight of a black bear waddling in their direction.

"You are so cute," South squealed, crouching down to scratch the bear behind the ears. "Who are you?"

The bear looked around himself boredly. "I'm Smokey," he told South. "Your pet bear."

"I have a pet bear?" South asked curiously. "Since when?"

"She _is_ bipolar?" Russia asked Belarus

"Tak," Belarus said with a nod.

"What should we do with her?" Cuba asked Russia. Mexico peeked around Russia one more time and glared at South and Smokey.

"You take your sister and South to your house," Russia said after some thinking. "Belarus and I will return home to search for Finland."

"Why am I stuck with the crazy girl and the murderous sister?" Cuba panicked, earning himself a furious glare from his sister.

"Because they are both near your house," Russia explained. "Don't worry; I have a crybaby and a psychopath to deal with." Russia gave Cuba a smile that sent shivers down the island nation's spine.

Belarus glared at her brother. "I hope you are not talking about me, Big Brother," she said hotly. "I believe there is a church nearby."

"Net," Russia said quickly. "Of course not, my wonderful little sister."

"The church?" South asked, straightening up from petting Smokey. "It's down yonder." She waved a hand in the direction of the nearest town.

"Net." Russia slapped a hand over South's mouth. "Cuba, take the little crazy girl and her target to your house."

South peeled Russia's hand off her mouth. "Crazy?" she repeated incredulously. "I ain't crazy!"

"And I am not her target," Mexico added quickly, crossing her arms.

"I do not have time for this," Russia growled. "Poydem, _(Let's go,)_ Belarus'." Turning, he led his sister back the way they had come.

"Let's get going," Russia heard Cuba say to South and Mexico. "Grab your bear."

"What bear?" South asked. There was a moment of silence, then:

"¡Maldita sea, Rusia!"

.o.)O(.o.

It was an underground room that had been built nearly sixty years ago. The constructors had passed away during that time, taking the secret location with them to the grave. Now only two people knew what and where the room was exactly. And it had been their meeting place during those long years.

The room was furnished with nothing but a single table and two identical chairs. A faded red line split both the table and the room in half equally. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling on a cord. It had been installed later, after the construction, and ran completely on batteries.

Korea couldn't sit still. He had tried sitting down several times and had failed in each attempt. The excitement was just too much for him; he couldn't handle it.

A door adjacent to the one Korea had come through opened and the Asian nation whirled around excitedly. His near doppelganger stood before him. North Korea was thinner and shorter than Korea with sharply prominent features. He wore his hair long, pulled back into a ponytail, like China. His olive green uniform had been neatly pressed.

"North, da-ze!" Korea called excitedly, launching himself at his twin brother who caught him just in time.

"Annyeonghaseyo, brother," North Korea greeted stiffly. "What is you want this time, ez-ad?'

"Aw, straight to business?" Korea whined. "Don't you just want to talk about fun things?" When North Korea's straight face didn't change Korea gave in. "You aren't answering Russia's calls, da-ze."

"If that is the only reason you called me here to talk," North Korea said. "Then I am leaving, ez-ad." He turned to do so but was stopped when Korea grabbed his sleeve.

"Russia _really_ needs to talk to you, da-ze," Korea said. North Korea gave him a firm glare that specifically said 'no', and Korea decided to use his secret weapon. He smiled.

North Korea's heart melted in an instant. "What is it?" he asked, turning back to his older brother. "What is so important Russia has called me thirteen times, ez-ad?"

"It's about Denmark, Norway, and Sweden," Korea said quickly before North Korea could change his mind. "They kidnapped America and Canada; and now they have Aniki and Hong Kong, da-ze."

"_Mueos_, ez-ad?" North Korea asked in a shocked voice.

"Ye," Korea said with a nod. "That's why Russia sent me to see you. North . . . Russia wants you to come out of isolation, da-ze."

"Why?" North Korea demanded hotly. "So the outside world can persecute me for what I've done, ez-ad?"

"Ani! Ani! Ani!" Korea said quickly, shaking his head. "Russia thinks there's a war coming, and he wants your help. He says we can't do this without you." North Korea narrowed his eyes, thinking, and Korea gave his brother his softest smile. "Nayo? _(Please?)_" he begged. "For Aniki, da-ze?"

North Korea thought for several more minutes and for a moment it looked as though he was going to say no. He finally spoke.

"Fine, let us go, ez-ad."

.o.)O(.o.

The smell of Linzer Tarts wafted through the kitchen and into the entire house. It made Liechtenstein's stomach grumble as she sat at the kitchen table, watching Austria make the treat.

"I just don't understand why Switzerland is making such a fuss about trading," Austria said, continuing his rant from picking Liechtenstein up at the border. "He doesn't have to do it at all if all he's going to do is complain about Italy and Netherlands."

Liechtenstein smiled at her older brother. "He didn't want to go," she said. "But I asked him to. Big Brother just wants to make me happy."

"I have never seen him care so much for someone," Austria sniffed. "He never care for me that much; and we're brothers."

"Maybe Big Brother just has a hard time trusting people," Liechtenstein suggested. "He likes to shoot at Italy and Italy's his younger brother."

"Humph," Austria huffed. "He once told me to shut up when I had an arrow in my butt." Liechtenstein giggled, trying to stifle it behind a hand.

There was a sudden bang that caused Liechtenstein to jump in her chair and Austria to drop the mixing bowl. The ceramic dish shattered on the floor, batter flying everywhere. The front door had been kicked open.

"Hej, Austria," Denmark called as he stalked through kitchen door. "We've come ta play!"

Norway appeared in the living room's doorway and Sweden blocked the back door. Austria stared in shock at the three Scandinavian nations. Never before had he seen his cousins act so violently; at least, not in the recent years.

"What are you three doing here?" Austria demanded, snapping out of his daze. "I did not invited you over. So rude!"

"Like I said," Denmark said. "We came ta play." He lunged forward at Liechtenstein who screamed and ducked past him.

"Liech!" Austria shouted, grabbing his younger sister and dragging her behind himself. "Bleib bei mir. _(Stay with me.)_"

"Aw, come on," Denmark cooed sinisterly. "Don't ya want ta play, Liech?" Liechtenstein sobbed into the back of Austria's coat and shook her head.

"Liechtenstein," Austria said stiffly, keeping his eyes on Denmark and Norway. "Sie müssen auf mich hören. _(You need to listen to me.)_"

"J-Ja," Liechtenstein sniffed. Austria could feel her trembling through his coat.

"Wenn Sie können, in das Wohnzimmer, _(When you can, get to the living room,)_" Austria told his younger sister. "Dort ist ein Schrank neben dem Kamin. _(There is a cabinet beside the fireplace.)_"

"Ja," Liechtenstein said again.

Denmark looked between the German siblings. "What are ya saying?" he asked suspiciously. "Is it something we need ta know?"

"It is none of your business, Denmark," Austria said stiffly.

"I think it is," Denmark said. He grabbed his axe from inside his jacket and swung it at Austria's head. Liechtenstein screamed shrilly.

Austria grabbed the handle of the axe and kicked Denmark in the stomach, wrenching the weapon from the nation's grip. The axe was then thrown in Norway's direction. The Nordic nation was forced to leap aside, lest he be sliced in half.

"Geh, _(Go,)_ Liech!" Austria shouted.

Liechtenstein darted forward, ducking under Denmark's reaching hands, and darted into the living room. It was a spacious room furnished with velvet couches and a coffee table. Beside the fireplace at the other end of the room was the cabinet Austria had told Liechtenstein about. Running the length of the room, Liechtenstein ripped it open to find both a long sword and a short sword hanging on a rack.

"Austria," Liechtenstein called over her shoulder, unsure what to do next.

"Bring them to me," Austria shouted. There was a crash in the kitchen as Norway was thrown across the counter, sending flour puffing into the air.

Liechtenstein grabbed the long sword with two hands and ran back to the kitchen. Denmark hit the wall just as Liechtenstein arrived in the doorway and slid down to the floor. He stood, massaging his back, then spotted Liechtenstein.

"Got ya!" Denmark crowed, grabbing the younger nation by the wrist.

"Nein," Liechtenstein squealed helplessly. "Austria, helfen Sie mir! _(help me!)_"

"Release her!" Austria ordered, slamming a fist into Denmark's temple. The taller nation yelped and released Lichtenstein who was dragged back behind her brother. Austria took his sword from her.

"That was a lucky move," Denmark growled as he stood, rubbing his chin. He grabbed his axe from the floor and swung at Austria's head.

Austria stepped aside, easily dodging the weapon. There was the sound of metal being sliced and a strange hissing sound. Norway and Sweden froze, and Denmark looked confused for a split second. Then the wall burst into flames.

"Scheiße," Austria swore. He made to back away from the flames but was stopped when Denmark and Sweden advanced on him. Norway closed of their escape route through the back door.

Liechtenstein sobbed into the back of Austria's coat, terrified of the situation. Unsheathing his sword, Austria clutched the weapon in both hands. The metal was both familiar and odd in his hands. He hadn't held a sword in many years.

"Leave now," Austria ordered his cousins. "Now."

"The way I see it, Austria," Denmark drawled lazily. "Ya've got one choice: come with us."

Austria glanced over his shoulder at the lapping flames before he made his decision.

"I would never," he said, and he charged Norway with his sword raised.

Norway caught the swing on his own sword, and the two nations began to duel. Liechtenstein watched the parries and jabs with wide eyes, as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Austria turned to dodge a blow and his eyes fell on Liechtenstein. They widened in horror.

"Liech," Austria shouted, diving for his younger sister. "Ducken! _(Duck!)_" He wrapped himself around Liechtenstein's small frame just as the oven behind them exploded.

The fire roared and spread with the speed of a wildfire, devouring everything in its path. Nothing was left untouched. Not the treasured piano or the pictures lining the walls. Not even the vehicles in the garage survived.

Denmark, Norway, and Sweden fled the burning house, coughing. They only turned back to watch the building burn when they were a safe distance away. The flames were licking at the evening sky.

"Well," Denmark said slowly. "That didn't go exactly as planned."

.o.)O(.o.

The door slammed open and collided with the wall, leaving a large dent in the wall to join the many others already there. Kumajirou was dropped heavily to the floor beside the umbrella stand. The polar bear glared at the man who had moments ago been carrying him.

"West," Prussia shouted loudly. "I'm home. West?" When he received no answer, he scratched his head, Gilbird hopping out of the way in the process.

"Who are you?" Kumajirou asked Prussia.

"Not now, Poley," Prussia told the polar bear, waving a hand at him. Kumajirou looked like he was seriously considering biting the hand. "West?"

Prussia wandered through the house, searching for some sign of his younger brother. There was none, until the ex-nation made his way into the kitchen. A note had been pinned to the fridge by a magnet.

_Prussia,_

_I have gone to speak to France about leaving Italy and Romano alone. He was trying to sneak into their house . . . again. Stay out of trouble and try not to blow up the house._

_Your kleiner bruder,_

_Germany._

_P.S. There's beer in the fridge._

"Huh, so West is out," Prussia said to himself. "I have the house all to myself with beer and a polar bear. _Awesome_!" He cackled and opened the fridge to grab a beer. Popping it open, he downed half of it.

"West got the good stuff," Prussia told Kumajirou as he made his way into the hallway. The ex-nation froze, his eyes widening in terror. His beer slipped from his hand and the bottle shattered on the ground.

"_You_?" Prussia managed to get out before something long and hard swung at his head. Military training kicked in and Prussia ducked the weapon.

Rolling back into the kitchen, Prussia doubled back through another door that led into the living room. From there he darted into the hallway, wrenched the closet door open, and grabbed his old sword. He spun around just in time to unsheathe the sword and block another blow.

"What are you doing here?" Prussia demanded, shoving his attacker away from. The taller male didn't speak as he swung once more at Prussia's head. The ex-nation dodged the blow again and skipped back.

"Missed," Prussia cackled, tossing his sword between his hands. "You missed me. How _un-awesome_." He yelped when he was struck on the top of his head. "Hey! No fair!"

The attacker didn't respond as he struck Prussia hard on the wrist. Pain zipped through Prussia's wrist and he dropped his sword with a gasp. His hand hung limply at his side; his wrist sprained badly, if not broken.

"Scheiße," Prussia swore, grabbing his wrist with his other hand. He backed away from his attacker, a defiant look on his face. "You're not taking me alive," he spat.

Prussia's sword was kicked behind the attacker who raised his weapon for another blow. The weapon struck Prussia on the temple, sending the ex-nation to the floor with a groan. Prussia barely had a moment to recuperate when a strong hand closed around his throat, crushing his windpipe.

"Hey," Prussia wheezed. He scrabbled at his attacker's hand with his own good one, but it was useless. The grip was strong as steel and cold as ice. Prussia coughed, his lungs screaming for air as the seconds passed.

Finally, the ex-nation fell to the ground with a _thump_ and the intruder released his grip. Bending down, he folded the unconscious Prussia over his shoulder. Kumajirou wandered into the room in time to see Prussia being kidnapped.

"Hey," Kumajirou called after the intruder. "What do you think you're doing?" He backed away when the intruder turned toward him and bent down. "No, get away from me!" The polar bear turned to run but was grabbed around the scruff by a strong hand. "Let me go!" He struggled uselessly. Gilbird chirped loudly, fluttering around the intruder's hair before finally settling in it.

The intruder left the house with Prussia over one shoulder and Kumajirou under one arm. His scarf waved in the wind and snow as he made his way toward the waiting van.

**We came ta play.**

* * *

A/N:_ What did you think?_

_This chapter took me all day, after a stressful five hour shift. :P I work at an office supplies store now, having quit my job at the clothing store before school started. You know, when we first started _Return to the Viking Age_ I didn't really have a job. Look how far I've come. Huh, I'm getting nostalgic. Bleagh. See y'all in the next story._


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